Never never-land
by K.C.Dragonfly
Summary: 'And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor shall be lifted - nevermore.' The past can haunt, and it can heal. But can the past work with the present to fix the future for one haunted CSI? Partially based on s13e15, Forget me, Not
1. Sorrow for the lost

**Okay, so I'm jumping on the bandwagon with the 'Forget me, not' theme of stories. However, hopefully it'll be a bit different. Also draws in some ideas from Karma to Burn, the Metallica song and music video 'Enter Sandman' and some ideas of my own. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own CSI, the characters or storylines etc. I also don't own Enter Sandman.  
**

**As always, italics is a flashback**

**x x x x**

"_Words have consequences. If you say you quit, you have to mean it."_

"_You quit." Nick pointed out tersely. _

"_No, I didn't quit." Sara contradicted. "I left a note at reception for Grissom and I went away to get my head together." _

It had felt almost ironic for the brunette to utter those words, since lately she had been feeling anything but 'together'.

"_And you're still here." Nick pointed out flippantly. "So don't preach to me about integrity." _

"_I am not preaching…" _

"_You kind of are, don't you think…"_

"_I went away for a while and I got my head together, but…"_

"_It's the same thing." Nick insisted, pushing himself away from the table. _

"_No, it isn't Nick." She shook her head, twisting in her seat to follow his movements. "You have no idea what I was going through before I left!"_

"_Oh I don't need to listen to this." The Texan snapped, stropping towards the door; but Greg quickly slid in front of him, blocking his path. _

"_Alright, alright, alright!" The youngest CSI interrupted, holding his hands up. "Come on, this isn't how family talks to each other." He paused, cocking his head to the side. "Alright, it is. But you can't just walk out on us. We're a team."_

_Nick threw a cold look back to Sara before levelling his gaze with Greg again. _

"_Not anymore we're not." He countered in an empty voice, shoving the small man aside and brushing past him. _

"_Nick!" Sara hollered after him, but he just kept walking. He never even looked back as he threw the front doors open and stalked into the morning sunlight.  
_

Poor Greg, the baby brother of the group, had tried his damndest to keep them together but Nick wasn't hearing it; and all of her own earnest protestations had fallen on deaf ears.

Sara hated to admit it, but his last words had stung. She tried to convince herself that they were not aimed at her directly, although she couldn't help agreeing with the sentiment to an extent. With Warrick, Grissom, Ray and now Catherine gone, they weren't the same team anymore.

It wasn't that she didn't enjoy working with the others, but that familiar, comfortable dynamic was long gone.

It wasn't the first time she had lost a family, and she could feel everything slipping away from her all over again. Her friends, her marriage, her life...

She shook her head, attempting to push the painful thoughts aside, but they wouldn't budge.

The thing that bothered her most about Nick's comments was the shot about her own reasons for leaving.

She had taken a lot of insults over the years, but never had her integrity been challenged. That was one thing she prided herself on.

Tipping her head towards the ceiling, she attempted to blink away the tears blurring her vision. She wasn't going to let herself cry.

It had been her mantra as a child: they might call you names, and try to hurt you; they might even succeed, but you never let the monsters see you cry.

Swallowing hard around the lump in her throat, she looked back down at the little bottle of pills nestled protectively in her trembling hands.

It would be so easy. One difficult moment and then all of the pain and bad memories would go away.

These thoughts had become more prevalent recently, creeping into her subconscious when she wasn't expecting it and sneaking up on her in the dark moments. Every time, she thought about how easy it would be to just give up. Stop the clock, so to speak.

Then she thought about her team. About Grissom. And she locked those dark thoughts up in a box.

Tonight, Nick had opened Pandora's Box. Only this time she couldn't find the key to lock it back up again.

On the other hand, if Nick was leaving then what reason did she have to? No team. No Grissom.

No point.


	2. Home by horror haunted

**Thanks for all the followers, reviews etc so far guys :) **

**x x x x**

_As I lay me down to sleep, I pray the lord my soul to keep  
And if I die before I wake, I pray the lord my soul to take…_

She tossed helplessly beneath the covers, feeling them constrict around her slender frame. Her whole body was coated in a thin layer of cold sweat as her breath came in short bursts and her hands clenched and twisted in the blankets.

The walls seemed to be closing in around her; and like the thick San Francisco fog creeps through the narrow town streets, she felt a presence creeping around her bed.

With a sharp gasp she sat bolt upright, her eyes wide and frantic as she searched the dimly lit room.

Her possessions, her furnishings, her life – but it all seemed unfamiliar and cold to her now.

She wanted to run away, as fast and far as she could. She let her eyes drift closed, feeling an invisible wind whip around her hair. She could almost feel the cold sensation of something around her legs, like a fine mist wrapping her up inside its damp web, trapping her.

She squeezed her eyes tighter, shaking her head against the wave of fear-induced nausea rising from the pit of her stomach.

"It's not real. It's just a dream. It's not real." She chanted to herself breathlessly. It hadn't worked as a child but she had continued to do it anyway. She had often found that the simple repetitiveness of the action had calmed her.

But not tonight. Tonight, it was going to take more than a little mantra to get her back to sleep.

She needed to get out of here. Outside, where the air was thin and crisp.

Outside, where she could breathe again.

X x x

"Hey, you gonna eat that?" Hodges aimed a fork at Greg's untouched bagel.

"No, knock yourself out." He hummed miserably, nudging it across the table. Hodges snatched it up happily, dropping it onto his own plate.

"Second helpings?" Mandy raised an eyebrow in mocking fashion. "What would Elisabetta think of you stuffing your face like that?"

"Yeah, you know women don't like extra weight." Morgan added light-heartedly, twisting a piece of stringy bacon around her fork and shovelling it between her lips.

"Say's you." David retorted around a mouthful of bread, gesturing pointedly to her actions.

Beside them, Greg continued to stare forlornly out of the window across the deserted parking lot. It was filled with police cars, but no one was stirring in the shadows cast by the pre-dawn glow.

Noting his downcast demeanour, Morgan nudged him gently in the ribs to get his attention.

"Hey, earth to Sanders." She called lightly. "Don't worry about Nick; he just needs some time to calm down. He'll come to his senses."

"Yeah, I guess." Greg agreed, somewhat unconvinced. "It's actually Sara I'm more worried about. She looked so upset when she left."

"She'll be alright." Morgan assured him, sobering up slightly. "Sara's a tough chick."

That, at least, elicited a small smile from the man, who nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, she is isn't she?"

X x x

She tried to tell herself it was the wind making her feel numb. But she knew deep down that that was a lie.

Memories flashed through her mind. One failure after another, flickering behind her tear-filled eyes like a deck of cards; each one with its own sordid story to tell.

_Queen of Hearts_

Justice

X x x

Nick stumbled blindly towards his car, his body swaying involuntarily until he landed ungracefully against the cool bumper.

Reaching into the bag, he extracted a bottle from the pack he'd just purchased – his replacement for the six cans of beer he'd already downed, and wrenched the lid off. It clattered to the floor at his feet and disappeared under the car somewhere.

No matter, he thought to himself idly, taking a large swig of the drink. He wasn't planning on resealing it anyway.

X x x

She could feel the air against her body, the wind whipping her long tresses around her face. The ground pounding beneath her feet.

And then she was actually running, racing her demons to the edge of the roof. A part of her brain told her to stop, but the voices in her head drowned it out.

_Four of Diamonds_

Family

X x x

"Hey, I thought you guys had left already?" DB queried, catching the younger members of his team up in the parking lot. Behind him, he heard Finn's heels clicking towards them as well.

"We did," Morgan agreed. "We were just going to Greg's for a movie marathon but David forgot the DVDs." She sent the lab rat a critical look, earning a careless shrug in response. "Mandy's going to meet us there with the booze."

"Any word from Nick yet?" Finn asked, tugging her leather jacket around herself against the chilly breeze.

"Not yet." Greg sighed, checking his phone once again in case he'd somehow missed a call since he last looked.

"He'll calm down, just give him time." DB assured them, squeezing the young man's shoulder in a paternal gesture.

"Yeah, I hope so." Greg breathed, casting his eyes skyward and blowing out a breath of air. "Come on, it's freezing out here today."

"Agreed." Morgan nodded abruptly, linking arms with Hodges. "Let's get that DVD and get out of here."

"Alright, have a good morning guys." DB waved, moving in the direction of his car with Jules in tow.

However, they didn't get more than four steps away when a piercing scream ripped through the air.

X x x

Before she knew it, the world beneath her feet was gone, replaced all too briefly by light, free air.

And then there was nothing but a peaceful weightlessness.

_Five of clubs_

Marriage

X x x

DB and Finn turned back towards Morgan at her panicked cry. She remained stood between the boys, her hands raised to her ghost-white face in terror, equally mesmerised and horrified by the scene playing out before her.

The supervisors followed her wide-eyed line of sight towards the building…

… just in time to see Sara's body hit the top of the concrete steps with an ominous crack that tore through the peaceful silence of daybreak.

_Ace of Spades_

Death


	3. Silken sad uncertain rustling

Apologies for the cliffhanger ... although not really because I have thoroughly enjoyed reading all your angry reviews :P

There is another one in this chapter but it's probably more dramatic to the characters than you guys.

Also, there are some spoilers for Karma to Burn in this chapter

Anyway, enjoy!

x x x x

The boys were the first to react, flying up the steps to their lifeless friend. Morgan, stumbling numbly towards them, fumbled for her phone and clumsily dialled 911

"We need an ambulance at CSI. We have an officer down!" She barked into the speaker, straining to get a closer look at the damage. "Oh, God." A shaky hand flew to her mouth as she fought the instinctive urge to throw up. Even from her position hovering over the boys' shoulders she could see that there was a lot of blood.

DB and Finn were already running to catch them up, throwing themselves ungracefully onto the cold steps.

"Oh Jesus." DB rubbed a hand over his face, casting his gaze up towards the roof where Sara had come from. Finn followed his line of sight and drew her weapon from its holster.

"I'll go." She stated, reading his mind.

"Be careful!" He hollered after her, but it was to no avail as she was already darting through the reception area, where several curious patrons had begun peering through the glass at the sudden commotion outside.

"Sara, wake up for me." Greg pleaded, scared tears streaming down his face as he carefully stroked the top of her head.

"I can't find a pulse." David stated soberly, his trembling hands clasping Sara's limp wrist. "I can't find it!"

"Come on Sara." Morgan whispered, her face a deathly pale as she continued to clutch the phone to her ear. DB stood back up and wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders, holding her tight against him.

"It's okay." He mumbled, tucking her head against his neck. "We're going to get her to hospital. She's going to be alright."

He didn't know if that was true but, as if pulled by the sheer force of his hope, somewhere nearby the sound of sirens drew closer; until the glass building was illuminated by blue lights.

X x x

"Excuse me!" Finn hollered, barging past the slow people meandering in her way. Clearly her panicked expression and brandished weapon were not enough to alert them to the emergency unfolding in their presence.

Finally making it to the stairs, she kicked the roof door open and burst out, hoping to surprise anyone that might be trying to escape.

However, unlike the havoc playing out not several feet below her, she was faced with an unsettling calm.

X x x

"I'm going with her." Greg asserted before anyone could contest it, already moving to climb into the awaiting ambulance.

Sara, now strapped onto a board with a large piece of gauze haphazardly placed over the large wound in her forehead, was carefully lifted in after him.

Finn appeared out of the lab just in time to catch a glimpse of her prone body and her hand clasped tightly in Greg's; before the doors were slammed shut, sealing them away.

"Well?" DB asked, tearing his eyes briefly from the injured party to cast a concerned glance over the blonde.

"There's no one up there." She breathed, clutching her cramping side in pain.

"What?" Morgan barked, spinning to face the older woman.

"It's deserted." Finn repeated, her blue eyes wide and sorrowful. "She must have been alone up there."

As this piece of news sank in Morgan turned towards Hodges, who was wearing a matching expression of devastation. Silently, he glanced down at his hands.

Red, stained with Sara's blood.

X x x

The sound of Greg's shoes shuffling along the tiled floor alerted them to his presence and Morgan rose to greet him.

The desolate expression on his face was answer enough, but she chose to ask anyway.

"Any word?"

"Nothing." He threw his hands out helplessly. "Wherever Nick is, he's not answering his phone."

"My guys are out looking, they'll find him." Brass sighed, dragging a hand over his weathered face. Having joined the party late, he felt even more at a loss than the rest of the team, although in reality he knew just as much as they did.

Which, in all honesty, was very little.

"Yeah, well I hope so." Greg sulked, sinking into a hard plastic chair.

"Did you get hold of Grissom?" Hodges asked, his eyes red raw from wiping away too many silent tears before he had given up and decided to just let them fall.

"No." Greg sighed again. "He's not answering either. But I don't know what time it is in … wherever the hell he is right now."

"Paris." David answered quietly, leaning back in his chair.

It felt strange for him, usually on the periphery of the tight family unit, to be sat here with them waiting for news. Ordinarily he would be at the lab with the rest of the techs waiting for a phone call.

However, ever since the ambulance had peeled out Morgan had not let go of his hand and he daren't extract her in case she completely lost the ability to hold herself up.

Not that it made a difference either way. Whether waiting for news at the lab or waiting for it here, everyone was thinking the same thing.

Everyone except Nick, that is.

X x x

The siren wailed briefly as the car slowed to a stop. Across the road, the liqueur store owner nodded appreciatively at their arrival.

"Hey don't worry everybody, we're safe!" Nick yelled, waving his drink in the air dramatically. "The police are here!"

"CSI Stokes." Larry Mitchell greeted coolly, stepping out of the vehicle. "A lot of people looking for you tonight."

"Well thank you for the news Officer." He swayed. "But I don't feel like talking right now. Now, if you'll excuse me I have some business to attend to." He raised his beer before taking a large mouthful.

"Well maybe you should sober up and answer your phone, because you're gonna want to hear what they have to say." The gruff officer stated sombrely.

"No," He stumbled forwards, nearly losing his balance. "I don't."

"We could take you in for being drunk and disorderly." The smaller of the two cops pointed out, straightening up to his full height. It was his first week in this town, and what a hell of week it was turning out to be.

"Well I am drunk." Nick conceded. "And if you two knuckleheads don't get out of here things are about to get real disorderly." He hurled the bottle at the wall, watching it smash and spill against the stone. In the process his shirt rode up, revealing the duty piece still clipped to his hip.

"Man's got a gun Larry." The other cop pointed out as the two of them both raised their own in well-timed unison.

"Oh." Nick chuckled, extracting his weapon. "You're a little slow on the draw there Larry." He noted, wielding his gun languidly. The police kept theirs trained on him and Officer Mitchell automatically reached for his radio to call for backup.

However, before he could, Nick lurched back against the vehicle again and dropped his hand. "You know what, I don't even need this." He tossed the firearm onto the bonnet of the car, where it clattered against the windshield. Pushing himself upright again, he stumbled forward a few steps. "Well, there's one beer left. I tell you what, I'll fight you for it."

Before either police could holster their own weapons, Stokes lunged forwards and swung his fist at Mitchell. Unfortunately for the CSI, his motor functions were not entirely smooth and the cop was much bigger and faster than him right now.

As a result, he quickly found himself slammed roughly into the nearest wall and wrenched into a pair of handcuffs.

"I think a few hours in a cell should straighten you out." Mitchell hissed callously in his ear. "She doesn't need you breathing fumes over her right now anyway."

X x x

DB's foot continued to tap incessantly, the only movement in the otherwise still waiting room.

When it was clear that the amassed group were not leaving until they had gotten some news, a nurse had relocated them to the family area.

It didn't help ease the atmosphere between them, but at least they weren't cluttering up the corridor anymore.

"What was she even doing on the roof?" Morgan asked at last, although it was more to herself than anyone else. "And why?"

"I spoke to Archie." Finn cleared her throat. "He checked the CCTV footage from the stairwell. She went up there alone and no one followed her."

This information only seemed to depress them further. Silently, DB reached out to place a hand over Finn's, where it lay twitching on the arm rest.

Though no one said it out loud, the evidence they had only led to one explanation.

If she wasn't pushed and she didn't fall …

…she must have jumped.


	4. Stillness broken by reply

The heavy metal bars clanged open and Greg stepped into the drafty cell.

"Hey, I've been trying to call you. But you already know that." He stated coolly, throwing the bagged and tagged cell phone at his colleague.

Nick stared at it where it landed in his lap for a long moment, before sweeping it disinterestedly onto the floor with a mumbled hum.

"Yeah I'm done talking." He slurred.

"I didn't come to talk Nick. I came to drag your ass back to work." The young man said with barely concealed rage. "So, how many beers have you had exactly?"

Nick pretended to think about it for a moment before flashing a smarmy grin. "Not enough." He straightened up a little, nearly sliding off the bench in the process. "Look I already told you Greg. I quit."

"Not tonight." Greg snapped, stepping further into the cell.

"I'm done man." The Texan attempted to stand up, but to his surprise the younger CSI launched at him, pinning him firmly against the wall.

"Sara tried to kill herself tonight, Nick!" He snarled, slamming the stronger man backwards again and again into the cold stone bricks. "She threw herself off the fucking roof, she's in the hospital! So you can do whatever the fuck you want tomorrow, but today you're going to come to the hospital and wait for news like the rest of us!"

Whether it was because of Greg's words, or the force with which they were delivered, Nick's features instantly sobered up.

"She … what?" He squeaked, his unfocused brown eyes attempting to search his friend's face for some sign that he wasn't serious.

Greg released him roughly, taking a large step back.

"Get your things." He spat. "I'm not waiting for you."

X x x

Four pairs of eyes turned towards them as they sloped into the tiny waiting room.

Nick, complete with his black eye and bruised jaw, looked significantly worse than they'd anticipated. His eyes were red and bloodshot, from the drink or from tears they weren't quite sure, and his balance was a little off. Still, he was decidedly sober now.

Jim was the only one to react to his presence, rising from his uncomfortable plastic seat and walking in measured steps across the room.

"What the hell were you playing at Nicky?" He asked gruffly, eyeing the young man with disappointment and disdain.

"Leave it out, Jim." Nick muttered. He appeared to be swaying on his feet, but his words came out surprisingly lucid. "I'm having a bad enough day as it is."

"You're having a bad day?" The detective scoffed, shoving Nick roughly backwards causing him to fall inelegantly in a chair. "Sara is in there, fighting for her life! And you're having a bad day!"

"Take it easy Jim." DB intervened, rising to his feet and clearing the room in two paces. He placed a strong hand on Brass' arm in an attempt to rein his temper in, though he was quickly shrugged off.

"Let me tell you something Nicky," The older man said, leaning down to his battered face. "If she dies in there tonight, it's going to be on your head." With a final cold glare, the police officer straightened up and strode out into the hall, letting the door swing helplessly in his wake.

With a sad sigh, DB patted Nick gently on the shoulder before slinking back to his own seat.

In the contemplative atmosphere that followed Jim's sullen departure, the only sound that could be heard in the small space was Greg's periodic sniffing.

Tipping his back to the ceiling, he let his tear-filled eyes drift closed and allowed images of Sara to flood his mind.

Memories of better days. Her smile, her laugh. The feeling of her in his arms on the rare occasion he had managed to steal a hug.

His teeth sank into his lower lip, swallowing the sob trying desperately to escape.

To his side, Morgan placed a comforting hand on his arm and squeezed it gently.

The unsettling quiet was eventually broken by the distinctive beeping of a pager. DB fumbled at his hip, unclipping it from his belt and squinting at the little screen.

"Oh geez." He groaned, taking off his glasses and rubbing a hand over his face before replacing them.

"What's the matter?" Nick asked hoarsely, his first words since Brass had left.

"420 at the Wynn Hotel." Russell sighed. "Everybody else is tapped out; I'm going to have to take it."

"I'll go with you." Finn offered half-heartedly, making no overt effort to move. DB scrutinised her for a moment, but it was clear from her expression that leaving Sara was the last thing she wanted to do right now.

"No, no it's okay." He assured her with an understanding nod. "You stay here."

"I'll go." Morgan stood up and stretched her stiff legs. "I need to do something to keep busy anyway."

"Alright, you come with me." He waved his phone at the others pointedly. "Call me, if there's _any_ change. Anything at all."

"We will." Finn promised him, settling back into her seat.

Something told her that she was going to be here for a while; she may as well make herself comfy.

X x x

"Why do you think she did it?"

It was the first word either of them had said since leaving the hospital, and Morgan hadn't even realised that she'd said it out loud until DB whipped his head round to her in surprise.

"I don't know." He groaned. "I … I just want her to be alright."

"Yeah." Morgan agreed sadly as they stepped out of the elevator and into the busy hotel corridor. Initially they chalked the hive of activity up to the fact that news had spread about Sara. However, it was clear as they approached the room that there was more to this situation than they initially realised.

Vartann was lurking outside a room, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his shoulders tensed.

"Hey Detective." DB greeted coolly. "You alright, you look stressed?"

"Yeah, well I have reason to be." He agreed, running a hand through his hair.

"So you've heard the news." Morgan nodded, pursing her lips.

"Yeah, who told you?" Vartann frowned, instinctively glancing round at the nearby officers.

"We were there." She matched his expression, shaking her head in confusion.

Not understanding, he disregarded the comment and produced a case brief from the manila folder tucked under his arm.

"Male victim, stabbed seven times in the chest." He read. "Housekeeping found him. Witnesses saw a woman leave the room not long after midnight. We got a CCTV image of her from security."

"Okay, put out an APB. Let's deal with the victim first." Russell stepped towards the room, his heavy metal case swinging at his side, but Vartann stopped him with a hand on his chest.

"I'm sorry DB, I can't let you in there."

"What … how come? What's going on?" He frowned, attempted to move away. Lou dropped his hand, his forehead creasing in bemusement again.

"The female – the suspect … it was Sara." He stated, as if they should have known this already.

Russell's face fell with horror as the detective's words registered through the already frazzled fog in his brain.

"Oh no." He rubbed a hand over his face while, beside him, Morgan visibly recoiled at the news. "Oh, no."

"I … I thought you knew." He stuttered, even more confused now. "What were you talking about?"

"Sara's in the hospital." Morgan explained numbly, swallowing around the lump in her throat. "She tried to kill herself this morning."

"Oh, man." Vartann stepped backwards until his spine hit the doorframe. "This isn't going to look good."

"Yeah well," DB sighed despondantly, "right now things aren't looking too good for Sara either way."


	5. That melancholy burden bore

Hodges continued to stare blankly at the wall until his vision blurred and his eyes stung. His clothes were still stained and, though he'd washed his hands more times than he could count, he could still feel Sara's hot blood on his skin.

He almost wanted to hold onto the feeling. As long as her blood was still flowing, she was still alive. It meant there was still a chance. He knew that didn't make any sense on a logical level, but it made him feel ever so slightly better all the same.

"Hey." A soft voice enquired, dragging him away from his thoughts and their hiding place. "We didn't realise you were back."

"Yeah, Greg dropped me off when he went to get Nick." He rubbed his eyes tiredly as Mandy slid into the seat beside him.

Behind her, Archie wandered over and placed his hands on the back of her chair.

"How's she doing?" He asked, his usually cheerful smile vanished, replaced by a concerned frown embedded into his forehead.

"She's … hanging in there. Barely." He decided at last.

The truth was he didn't know how Sara was, but he felt like he should at least try to offer them some glimmer of hope. The atmosphere here was much more optimistic than at the hospital. Why ruin that?

Maybe, through some force of nature, the good vibes would reach Sara in her comatose state and pull her out of limbo.

X x x

Nick winced as the sound of Finn's cell phone cut through the silence in the room.

"Hey DB." She greeted hurriedly. "There's been no news yet, but Jim's gone to try and get..." She trailed off, all colour slowly draining from her face. "Oh no."

Greg and Nick both turned in unison to face her, their eyes narrowing at the sudden panic in her voice.

"Oh, God! You can't be serious." She swallowed, distress flooding her features.

Nick stood up on shaky legs, moving carefully towards her.

"What's going on?" He asked as forcefully as he could. She flicked her eyes up to him, lowering the phone for a moment.

"Their dead body in the hotel … Sara was the last person to see him alive. She's the main suspect."

X x x

"Dammit Grissom." Nick growled, throwing his phone at the floor. For the second time today it bounced across hard tiles and clattered against the wall.

"Still not picking up, huh?" Jim asked, somewhat needlessly given the Texan's reaction.

Nick's only response was to sink into his chair and bury his head in his hands.

"What's wrong?" Greg asked coldly. "Hangover kicking in?"

"Yeah." Nick grunted, sniffing back tears.

"Good."

The venom in Greg's voice was felt by everyone in the room, but Nick didn't even react to it other than to cast a dark glare at his young colleague. After a long moment, he pushed himself up and began pacing around the small room again.

"I'm going down there. I need to do something."

"I thought you quit." The detective stated tersely.

"Come on, Brass." The Texan emitted a humourless laugh. "Don't start with me."

"Hey, Nicky." He continued, pushing himself off the wall with his hands raised defensively. "You need to sober up."

Nick opened his mouth to offer a retort, but a young nurse poked her head into the waiting area before an argument could erupt.

"Excuse me." She cleared her throat, scanning the faces in turn. "Sara Sidle's family?"

They all fell silent, turning as a connected unit towards the door. It was blatently obvious that these people were not all related to her patient, but given the thick tension in the room she elected not to comment.

"Miss Sidle sustained a serious head injury." She began, easing them in gently. "She survived the surgery, but we can't be sure of the level of damage suffered until she wakes up."

"And, when will that be?" Greg asked, throwing his hands out to the sides.

"I'm sorry." She shrugged helplessly, sending him what she hoped was a sympathetic smile.

"Damage." Jim repeated. "You mean … brain damage?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you much more." She answered awkwardly. This was always the worst part of her job, especially when it was looking less-than-hopeful, but it was unavoidable sometimes.

"Dammit!" Nick snarled, whirled around and slamming his fist into the nearest wall.

"There was something else." The nurse added uncertainly, taking an obvious step back. "Miss Sidle suffered another injury a few hours before her fall..."

X x x

Greg sloped into the room, surveying the scene from the doorway for a long minute.

A middle-aged male was spread-eagled on the floor in his boxers, his chest covered in a layer of dried, dark blood. David was already here, crouched over the deceased with a knitted brow as he surveyed the injuries.

"Hey Bud." DB greeted sadly, noting his arrival. "Any news?"

"Nothing good." Greg shrugged. "I hear things are getting worse on this end too?"

"Yeah, yeah it's not looking good." The supervisor conceded, almost reluctant to even utter the words.

"Well, there's something you should probably know. Before I left we got an update on Sara's condition."

"And?"

On the other side of the room, Morgan stopped what she was doing and moved closer to hear the answer as well.

"She has a recent gunshot injury to her shoulder. Looks like a glancing wound. She dressed it herself." He cleared his throat, finally managing to tear his gaze from the dead body. "They estimated that it had happened in the last few hours."

"Sara was _shot_?" Morgan repeated, stunned. "Where does that fit in?"

"I don't know. I guess we'll just have to see." DB sighed, trying to wrap his own head around this news.

"I just … I don't get what she was even doing here." The young man frowned, shaking his head. "It doesn't make any sense."

"Maybe she knew the victim." Morgan theorised, returning to her task of photographing the room.

"Hey." Vartann greeted, ducking under the tape and acknowledging Greg with a short nod. "I finally got a name on who the room is registered to." He turned the folder around so Russell could read it.

"Oh you've got to be kidding." DB scowled at the piece of paper, running a hand over his face. "The room was registered to Sara?"

"Apparently she booked it online two weeks ago, for five days." Lou added sombrely. "But the receptionist said she only ever saw the male coming and going."

"Why?" Morgan breathed. "Why would she need to book a hotel room for a whole week?"

"I don't know." DB frowned, at a complete loss to explain the mess of evidence before them. "I think we just need to work the scene and make sense of it all later."

"Finn's going to collect her clothes and fingernail scrapings at the hospital, as soon as she's allowed to see her." Greg added in a hoarse voice.

"Okay." Russell nodded. "Greg, you go with David and the body. Morgan, why don't you take the bed?"

Understanding why she was being given the task, she put down her camera and took a deep breath, trying once again to pretend that it was just another case, before whipping back the duvet cover.

X x x

Finn replaced the grazed hand carefully on the bed, instinctively cautious not to disturb the patient. Not that it was likely; she wasn't exactly stirring.

Sara was turned towards her left side, her dark curls spilling out from beneath the stark white bandage wrapped around her head. She looked almost peaceful, if not for the breathing apparatus taped across her mouth and the bruises and scrapes adorning her ghost-white face.

So far, tests suggested that she was going to wake up eventually. When that would be was anyone's guess. In the meantime, she remained lost in neverland; lost to the sandman.

With a sigh, she dragged a chair to the bed and lightly touched Sara's head before picking up her comb and carefully pulling it through the tangled brunette locks.

She didn't know what she was looking for, but she simply could not believe that Sara had killed someone in cold blood. She could only hope to find some evidence that proved otherwise.

Or, more specifically, a lack of evidence linking her to the body.

Having gathered all the exhibits she could without hurting Sara further, she elected to leave the rest to a nurse.

In truth, she didn't really want to perform an SAE kit on her friend anyway, not least when she was in such a delicate state.

Packing everything away, she used the extra time to just sit with Sara for a while.

Only Jules had been allowed into the room, and only for the purpose of evidence collection. Still, she may as well make the most of her time with their injured teammate.

She shuffled up to the bed, reclaiming the seat beside it. Tentatively, she reached out to grip the patient's hand and rubbed gentle circles on it with the pad of her thumb.

"Jesus Sara." She breathed, tipping her head up to the ceiling in an attempt to blink away scared tears filling her eyes. "What the hell happened tonight?"


	6. Dirges of his hope

"I don't understand. She has a gunshot wound, how can she be a suspect?" Nick barked, a perplexed scowl on his face.

"Morgan found her weapon under the bed." Greg explained, attempting to keep up with the taller man's large strides down the glass-lined hallways of the lab. "Mandy's running prints off it now."

"I still don't get it." Nick growled in frustration. "This ... it just doesn't make any sense."

"I know, I'm with you." Greg insisted, finally catching his arm and dragging him to a stop. "All I'm saying is you need to slow down. You can't go near the evidence when you're like this."

They glanced across the hall into the layout room, where Morgan and DB were busy setting out the case so far.

Nick ran a hand over his cropped hair, his brow creased in barely-reined anger.

"I'm fine." He ground out between his teeth at last. The smell of stale beer was still lingering on his clothes and the bruises adorning his face were becoming more purple with every passing minute; Greg didn't really feel like fighting him right now. Instead, he rolled his eyes in reluctant acceptance and gestured towards the room.

It wasn't the ideal working situation, but then none of this damn case was.

X x x

"Okay, at the moment Vartann is running this as a murder-suicide gone bad." DB began, clearing his hoarse throat. "Sara's service weapon was found under the bed and we pulled a bloodstained bullet from the bathroom doorframe. Bobby's running them now."

"She didn't do this. She couldn't have shot _herself_ with that thing." Nick jumped in before he could say anything else.

Russell sent him a disregarding look before continuing.

"We _don't know_ what happened yet. And until Sara wakes up, all we have to go on is the evidence." He insisted calmly. "So, Nick and Morgan; you two take the evidence from the scene and Sara's clothes from the hospital."

"Okay." Morgan nodded abruptly before Nick could offer any more disparaging remarks.

"Greg," The boss continued, dragging the young man's attention away from the disturbing photographs scattered haphazardly in front of him. "I want you in autopsy. Where's Finn?"

"She's still at the hospital." Nick answered tensely. "We decided to take it in turns to stay, in case something happens."

"Alright, that's good. I like that plan." DB nodded, happy that his team were at least working together on something. "Okay guys, Sherriff Liston's being lenient by letting us process this, so be thorough. You all know what one mistake could mean for Sara right now."

As they all sloped off one by one to their designated areas, DB picked up an image of the deceased and sighed, shaking his head at the horrific injuries.

"What happened, Sara?"

X x x

"Do you think he tried to hurt her?" Morgan asked, her usually pristine blonde hair now tousled and unruly from repeatedly clawing a stressed hand through it.

"I don't know; something's not right here." Nick muttered, shaking his head. "Sara wouldn't do something like this. And why, if she had a gun, would she stab someone to death."

"Maybe he grabbed it out of her hands?" The woman speculated. "Or he took it when she wasn't looking, so she picked up the nearest thing to defend herself – the knife."

"No." Nick insisted. "He was stabbed seven times, she wouldn't …" he trailed off, dragging a tired hand over his face. "Did you even _find_ the knife?"

"No." Morgan sighed. "It was missing from the scene, as well as the guy's ID."

"Hey," Finn greeted, buttoning up her lab coat as she breezed into the room. "How's it going in here?"

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Nick asked bluntly, ignoring her question. "Who's with Sara?"

"It's okay." She held her hands quickly to assuage his concerns. "Jim's with her. He's going to call with an update as soon as we can see her."

"Any news?" Morgan inquired hurriedly, her blue eyes wide and hopeful.

"Nothing yet, I'm sorry." Finn shook her head, a tight smile on her lips. "Where do you need me?"

"I haven't got round to analysing her clothes from the hospital yet." Morgan gestured across the room to the brown bag, still tagged and sealed. To be honest, she had been putting it off. If Sara had been there when the victim was stabbed, there would be blood spatter. And that would not help their friend's case.

X x x

"Well, I don't think I need to tell you cause of death." Doc Robbins sighed.

"Multiple sharp force injuries to the chest?" Greg guessed, releasing a deep breath.

"You got it." The coroner peered carefully at the young CSI over the top of his glasses. "I hear the prognosis is positive."

"They haven't really told us anything." Greg shrugged meekly. "Only that she will probably wake up eventually."

"Trust me," Doc offered a comforting smile. "That's good news. They usually wouldn't even say that much given the injuries she sustained."

"Yeah, well. I'm keeping all my fingers crossed either way." He mumbled.

"Yeah, aren't we all." Albert added softly.

Feeling a little clausrophobic with this line of conversation, Greg cleared his throat and gestured to their corpse.

"Do we, uh, have a name yet?"

"Not yet." Doc pursed his lips. "I'll get his DNA and prints to Henry and Mandy. Maybe they'll be able to tell you something." He reached over, picking up the man's arm. "I can tell you that he was a user. See the old track marks?"

"Man, what was Sara doing in a hotel with this guy?" Greg asked rhetorically.

"That," The coroner sighed, dropping the limp arm back down onto the metal table with a heavy thud, "I'm afraid you'll have to ask Sara."

X x x

They worked in silence for a while, each too lost in their own thoughts to engage in conversation tonight.

After what felt like an age of suffocating quiet, Finn cleared her throat.

"Does she have a lawyer?"

"I don't know." Morgan put down her pen and rested her hands on the bench. "Her husband would probably know."

"Yeah, wherever the hell he is." Finn scoffed.

"Maybe we could make some calls for her?" The younger female suggested, gladly jumping at the opportunity to help in some way.

Nick stopped what he was doing and looked up, his eyes blazing with the anger despite the dark rings surrounding them.

"Sara doesn't need a lawyer! She didn't do this!" He growled in a low voice.

"We're not saying she did, alright." Morgan straightened up, sending her irate colleague a calming look. "We're just saying that the evidence looks pretty bad right now and it's probably in her best interests to plan for the worst case scenario."

"No!" Nick furiously swept the stacks of tamper-evident bags away. "This is not happening! This can't be happening!"

Finn stood up, abandoning her work and walking slowly towards him. "Nick, I know you're angry…"

"No, you don't know anything." He barked, pushing himself away from the table. "You don't know Sara, not like I know her!"

"Hey, you think I don't care about Sara too?" She asked, hurt seeping into her voice. "I don't want to believe that she had anything to do with this, but right now all we have to go on is the evidence. And until she wakes up and tells us her side of the story, that's what we have to trust."

Nick's hands were balled into fists at his side, his jaw clenching and unclenching with an audible click.

Behind him, DB and Greg materialised in the threshold and scanned the mix of emotions ricocheting around the room.

"Hey, what's going on in here?" Russell asked evenly, placing his hands on his hips.

"They want to get Sara lawyer!" Nick spat, gesturing to the women.

"We just thought it might be an idea to prepare for the worst." Finn explained, lowering her voice.

"We have no evidence to suggest that she has anything to do with this!" Nick insisted. "Have you _found_ any blood on her clothes?"

"No." Finn admitted. "But…"

"Exactly."

"_But_," she continued forcefully, briefly meeting Russell's gaze across the room. "There's no bullet hole either. If she was shot in that room, she wasn't wearing this shirt at the time."

Nick appeared to disregard the comment and flicked his eyes to Greg, who was still lurking quietly by the door.

"What about you?" He asked. "You've known Sara as long as I have."

Greg shifted uncomfortably under the multitude of questioning stares suddenly facing him.

"I … uh, I agree with them." He admitted at last. "Just in that we need to work out how to help her if it comes down to the worse case scenario." He amended quickly, holding his hands up.

"I don't believe it." Nick shook his head, backing away from them all. "After everything Sara's done for you. After what happened with Demetrious James…"

"Yeah, exactly!" Greg pounced on the opportunity to cut in. "I never thought for a minute that things would spiral out of control like that, but they did. I don't want the same thing to happen to Sara."

Nick, barely even listening now, emitted a humourless chuckle.

"You guys … if you're not going to prove her innocent, then I will."

DB's attempt to grab him failed, as did Greg's efforts to move clear of the Texan's path as he stormed out of the room. Recoiling from the impact to his shoulder, he sent the others a miserable scowl and jogged after his old friend.

"Nick, wait!"

As the sound of their footsteps faded down the hall, the three remaining members shared a despondent look.

"Wow." Morgan pursed her lips.

"Yeah." Finn hummed in agreement. "Who's Demetrious James?"

"He was part of a gang that were beating up and killing tourists." Morgan explained, recalling the story her dad had told her shortly after she came to Vegas. "Greg was on his way to a scene when he saw them attacking someone and he drove towards them. Most of them ran away, but one kid came towards the car with a brick, so Greg hit him. He died in surgery."

"Wow." DB echoed Morgan's previous sentiment. This was the first he was hearing of the case, although he had to admit that it explained a few things about his cagey underling.

"Yeah, the state took him to court and when the family weren't happy with the verdict they sued him. Dad said the city paid Demetrious James' mother $2.5 million in settlement."

"Whoa. That must have been one hell of an inquest." Julie mused.

They fell quiet for a few minutes, contemplating the situation. They couldn't help but wonder what they would have done to help Greg had they been here at the time.

Morgan and DB had been around for longer than Finn, but in terms of longevity they were all 'new' members. Nick was right, they hadn't known Sara very long.

But that didn't mean they couldn't still help her.

"I know that Nick only wants to help her, but he needs to calm down." Finn sighed at last. "If we're going to get Sara through this we need to understand her better first and Nick can do that – he just needs to think clearly."

A thought struck Morgan and she hopped off the stool with a hopeful glint in her eyes.

"I think I know who else could help us with that." She muttered, sliding past her boss into the corridor.

As the last of the younger team members vanished into the maze of labs, DB walked carefully towards Finn.

"How you doing, you okay? He asked delicately, placing a firm hand on her shoulder.

"I'm okay." She nodded, leaning into his touch, even going so far as to offer a small smile as proof. Letting his hand slide back to his side, he shook his head slowly in loss.

"What the hell are we going to do, Jules?" He murmured sadly, picking up an evidence bag containing a small silver necklace. "We can't lose her."

"We won't." She assured him, electing to ignore his use of her illicit nickname for once.

He turned his sad blue eyes away from the pendant to search the familiar lines on her face.

"Wha … what if we can't help her?"

"We let the evidence help her."


	7. Rare and radiant maiden

Some minor spoilers for episode 13.09 Strip Maul in this chapter. Also, for any science geeks like me who are curious about the tox numbers, I did the math so it should (hopefully!) be correct.

x x x x

She tapped her foot impatiently, drumming her fingers on the phone. Above her, an intercom crackled into action.

"Come on Gil. Answer the fucking phone." She hissed angrily. "Don't do this to her now."

Getting no response but a dial tone, she snapped the phone shut and stared down at the airline flight in her hand, emitting a heavy sigh.

X x x

"Okay, so I ran the DNA from the bullet you pulled from the doorframe." Henry babbled nervously, the piece of paper visibly shaking in his hands. "It's definitely a match to Sara."

"Okay." DB hummed, oblivious to the effect he had on the young man. "And Bobby matched the bullet to Sara's weapon found under the bed."

"So she was definitely shot with her own weapon." Morgan shifted her weight uncomfortably, narrowing her eyes at the lab tech. "What about the DNA from the bed sheets and the SAE kit?"

"It's still running." He cleared his throat. "It'll probably take another few hours. Same goes for the victim's DNA."

"I might be able to save you some time there." Mandy interrupted, wandering into the layout room nose deep in a folder. "I ran his prints. His name's Jack Stone, in the system for multiple prior drugs offences and thefts in the 80s and 90s."

"Any connection to Sara?" Morgan asked hopefully. If they could find the connection, they might be closer to solving this bastard of a case.

"Not that I can tell." She shrugged helplessly. "Most of his offences were in California and Arizona, a couple were in New York. I'm sorry."

"What about the rest of the prints in the room?"

"All are from Sara, Jack or the cleaning staff. Nothing unexpected." She shrugged again. "Sorry I can't be of more help."

"Thanks guys." DB nodded absently. "Let me know as soon as you get anything else on the DNA Henry."

As the lab rats sloped back to their respective homes desondently, Finn turned to DB and cleared her throat.

"Okay. So, where does that leave us?"

"I don't know yet." He frowned, staring down at the results in his hands. "But I don't think it really helps our case."

X x x

Brass paced outside the room, stopping only to crack his knuckles and stare forlornly at the door to the ICU.

All the facts he'd been told in the last few hours were ricocheting around his mind like pin-balls, echoing inside his skull.

Sara was a murder suspect … she had a bullet wound … she'd been shot with her own weapon.

So many random facts and none of them made any sense together.

He glanced down at the photo in his hand. Vartann had sent him a picture of the crime scene, albeit only after a great deal of hassling and persuasion.

There was a large blood pool in the middle of the floor where the body had been found. Near that, on the chest of drawers there was visible blood spatter. Possibly from the stabbing, or from Sara's injury.

He felt his stomach lurch at the sight of it all and carefully lowered himself into one of the hard plastic chairs lining the corridor.

Reaching into his pocket, he extracted the small gold ring. It had been there for nearly two months, waiting for him to return it to its rightful owner.  
If he could only find her.

He laughed softly in reminiscence, recalling the weeks spent searching for just the right engagement ring. Eventually he'd given up and had one custom made. He'd even gone so far as to have it inscribed.

_To My Bride Nancy Brass 3/5/78_

After the divorce, he'd refused to have it back. He'd told Nancy to give it to Ellie.

And Ellie had sold it to another hooker on the street for two hundred bucks.

With a sad sigh, he slipped the ring back into his pocket and tipped his head against the cool wall, blinking back the tears threatening to spill from his baby-blue eyes.

He'd ruined his marriage. He'd lost his daughter.

Sara was his last chance. And yesterday he'd damn near lost her as well.

X x x

"Hey." Hodges cleared his throat, creeping into the room. Greg snapped back from staring blankly at the table and sniffed, straightening up.

"Hey, you got something?" He asked, failing to disguise the emotion seeping into his voice.

It was obvious that he had been crying, but Hodges elected not to call him on it. Instead, he wandered over to the bench and held out a results sheet.

"I tested the blood and hair samples Finn took at the hospital, ten hours after Sara was admitted. She had zolpidem in her system – point-9 milligrams a litre."

"Point-9?" Greg repeated, snatching the report out of his hands. "That's insane. A single 5 milligram pill takes 10-12 hours to clear the system completely. Even if she took a double dose right before she jumped, it still shouldn't be that high."

"It gets worse." Hodges continued sombrely. "According to the tests on her hair, she took the drug about fourteen hours before Finn processed her."

Greg blinked, letting this information sink in for a moment.

"Fourteen hours before Finn took the samples would put ingestion at around 2am."

"Is that significant?"

"Yeah." He exclaimed animatedly, searching hurriedly through the stack of paperwork in front of him until he found the document he wanted. "Doc Robbins estimated the victim's time of death at between 1 and 3am. If it was _after_ Sara took the pills, she couldn't possibly have stabbed him with that much Ambien in her system."

"Not unless she has insomnia on a level the world has never seen before." David nodded in agreement.

X x x

"Hey, I hear you may have exonerated Sara." Bobby grinned, slapping Hodges on the shoulder as he sailed into the room.

"Yeah, I guess. Maybe." He mumbled, passing up the opportunity to claim credit this time. "For the murder at least."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dave Phillips inquired, trailing in behind the rest of the techs.

"It means, Sara was still in that hotel room with a man who isn't her husband." Hodges pointed out tiredly, wiping a hand over his face.

"We don't know what happened yet." Mandy jumped in quickly before he could vocalise any theories. "Henry hasn't got any results from the bed sheets yet."

"I don't think we need a DNA hit to prove what happened." The trace tech continued with a dry scoff.

"I can't believe it." Super Dave shook his head slowly in loss as he sank heavily onto a stool. "I can't believe that Sara would do this."

"We don't know that she's done anything yet." Archie backed Mandy up snippily.

"No, not … not that." The assistant coroner shook his head. "I mean, I can't believe that she could try to kill herself. She always seems so strong, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." Hodges' expression instantly sobered, his voice suddenly becoming hoarse and quiet. "I can't stop seeing it."

Mandy, in an uncharacteristic gesture of kindness, placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently.

"Well, all we can do is keep praying."

"I've got all my fingers and toes crossed." Super Dave assured them with a firm nod.

X x x

"Alright, so run this by me one more time." DB frowned. "Slowly."

Greg took a deep breath and started again, making sure to moderate his pace this time.

"I did the math. Zolpidem has a half life of 2 hours. If she still had 0.9 milligrams in her system fourteen hours after ingestion, she must have taken 115.2milligrams."

"Wow." Morgan winced. "That level of sleeping pills must be life-threatening, surely?"

"It's not good." Greg conceded. "But, it does mean she couldn't possibly have killed the guy at 3am. She would have been knocked out."

"Hold on, back up a second." DB held up his hands. "The CCTV footage caught Sara leaving the hotel just after 1:30am, right?"

"That's right." Finn agreed.

"So, if she took them in the hotel she must have done it right before she left-"

"But we didn't find any sign of that in the room." Morgan noted. "No pills or containers."

"So she could have taken them as soon as she got home. And they can take anywhere from 30 to 90 minutes to kick in."

"Probably closer to thirty, given the amount she took." Greg pointed out. "What's the relevance?"

"I'm thinking, maybe they had an unexpected effect on her. People do a lot of strange things on zolpidem."

"Like sleepwalking, for instance." Finn cottoned on to where he was going with this. "You think that's how she ended up on the roof?"

"It's possible." He nodded with a shrug. "Especially if she's been under stress lately. Possibly from her marriage?"

"So, maybe this wasn't a suicide attempt." Morgan added hopefully. "It could be that she didn't know what she was doing."

"Greg, what does your math put the blood concentration as at 6am?"

"28.8 milligrams." He read. "That's still over twice the maximum recommended dose."

"Doesn't mean it wasn't a suicide attempt." Finn pointed out softly. "She still took the pills in the first place."

"It doesn't matter." Nick snapped; the first words he had spoken since Greg arrived to deliver his results. "None of this matters because none of it _proves_ anything. Time of death was anywhere between one and three, Sara was still in the room for some of that time."

"Nick, calm down." DB reached out to him but was roughly shrugged off. "Look, Finn's right; and you're right. It doesn't prove that she didn't attempt suicide and it doesn't prove that she's innocent; but it's something to hold on to at least."

"We shouldn't need to prove her innocence, none of this should be happening. Sara wouldn't take pills … she wouldn't …" He breathed, shaking his head unwaveringly.

"Nick, the evidence is right there in black and white." Greg pointed out.

"I don't care!" The Texan growled. "I can't believe that she would do this! Something else must be going on here, we should be trying to find out what it is."

"Hey, I don't want to accept any of this either." The youngest man insisted, tears springing to his earnest brown eyes. "But it _is_ happening, Nick. Sara _is_ in the hospital and she _is_ a suspect. She took those pills, Nick. You know it and I know it."

"Like Hell," Nicky choked out a dry laugh, refusing to hear the evidence being put to him. "I'm telling you, if something was bothering Sara that much she would have talked to us first."

"You don't know that…" Finn attempted to jump in, but was bluntly rebutted.

"She would have talked to me!"

"How could she, Nick?" Greg barked, finally losing his cool. "You weren't here! You quit, remember!"

"That's not the point, you don't know…"

"That's exactly the fucking point!" The younger man snarled, clearing the room in two strides to get right in his colleague's face. "She needed us and you were too busy throwing your pathetic little temper tantrum to help her!"

"Oh, come on Greg…"

They were so engrossed in the argument unfolding before them; no one in the room noticed the distinctive sound of heels clicking down the hall in measured steps and coming to an abrupt stop outside the room.

"Hey!" A familiar voice barked, silencing the brewing fight and drawing five pairs of startled eyes to the door. "What the hell is wrong with you two?!"


	8. Pondered weak and weary

**Thanks again to those reading and reviewing **

**Catherine will feature a bit more in the next chapter, but in the meantime …**

**x x x x**

"Catherine?" Greg blinked, dropping his hands and letting his shoulders slump in a mix of nerves and relief at the sight of the strawberry-blonde. Behind him, DB also emitted a mumble of gratitude for her impromptu arrival.

"What are you doing here?" Nick queried with a puzzled frown, not quite as happy to see her as his colleagues.

"I called her." Morgan stood up and moved around the bench to greet Catherine. Uncharacteristically, but in desperate need of some physical support right now, she hugged the older woman.

Cath, still eying the boys with disregard, returned the unexpected embrace tightly, dragging a hand through Morgan's long tresses.

"You shouldn't have." Nick muttered beneath his breath, but just loud enough for the women to hear. Releasing the youngest team member, Catherine took a challenging step towards him.

"No, she shouldn't have." She agreed calmly. "_You_ should have called me."

At Nick's disparaging scoff, she narrowed her eyes coldly.

"Sara throws herself off the roof and _neither_ of you thought to call me? You didn't think I should know about that?"

"We're sorry." Greg held up his hands apologetically. "We've just been kind of wrapped up in…" he gestured weakly to the evidence scattered across the layout room table, as if it was answer enough.

Cath flicked her eyes around the room briefly, nodding in silent greeting at DB, before turning her attention back to Nick.

"Well, care to explain yourself Nicky?"

He turned his eyes languidly towards her, the brown orbs blazing despite the noticable dark circles surrounding them.

"I don't have to explain myself to you." He spat sullenly.

With a trademark raised eyebrow, Catherine pursed her lips and nodded pointedly in the direction of the hallway.

"Outside."

X x x

"_What the hell is wrong with you? Have you completely lost your mind?"_

DB, Finn and Morgan exchanged startled expressions as Catherine's sharp voice echoed back into the room. Greg, in contrast, did not appear that shocked by the angry words being exchanged just outside the door.

Not that anyone would know that, because his head was buried in his hands, propped up on the table.

"Wow." Finn hummed, biting back a small smile. She didn't know exactly who this woman was, but she already liked her.

"Yeah. Maybe we should..?" Russell gestured to the second exit on the other side of the room, raising his brow in question.

"Yeah." Morgan agreed, beginning to gather her notes into a pile.

However, before they could finish repackaging the evidence, DB's cell phone trilled.

"Hey Jim." He greeted. "Things are pretty crazy here right now. How..how's she doing?" There was a pause as the remainder of the team watched his expression with baited breath. "Really? Ah that's great news. Listen, let me call you back in a few minutes. Hurricane Catherine just landed."

X x x

"Hey, I'm trying to fight Sara's corner here." Nick insisted in a wounded voice, pressing a hand to his chest. "I'm the only one sticking up for her!"

"So, this is your idea of helping her?" The woman questioned harshly. "By arguing with your teammates? Picking fights with Greg?"

"They think she killed a man, Catherine! They think she tried to kill _herself_!"

"She threw herself off the roof!" Cath retorted, her voice rising heatedly with each word.

Further down the corridor, curious technicians had begun peering out of their glass-lined labs at the sound of the familiar voice.

"Thank God." Mandy breathed, glad to see the fiery blonde back in CSI again. If anyone could maintain order among the warring CSIs, it was Catherine Willows.

"You know what; I don't have to listen to this!" Nick shook his head, choking out a bitter laugh from his dry throat. "Especially not from you."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means, you don't have clue what's been happening around here." He snarled, barely restraining himself from jabbing a finger at her.

"No, of course I don't!" She agreed. "Because you didn't tell me! I had to hear what had happened from _Morgan_?"

"You know what, Cath…" He raised both hands in a defensive action, taking a deliberate step back.

"Don't." She warned in a low voice. "Don't you dare walk away from me. I'm not done with you yet."

To her pleasant surprise, he stopped. But he didn't look happy about it. Catherine closed the gap that now lay between them, ensuring to keep her voice softer this time; well aware of the attention they were drawing.

"What would Warrick think if he saw the way you're acting?"

"Don't you dare." He echoed her previous threat. "Don't you _dare_ bring him into this!"

"Why not?" She challenged, cocking her head to the side. "Because you know I'm right? If Rick were here right now he would tell you to man up."

"I don't have to listen to this." He tried to walk away again but she gripped his arm, swinging him around with surprising strength.

"He would be in there with the rest of the team, trying to find a way to help her. He wouldn't be throwing a tantrum because things aren't going his way."

"I am trying to deal with this!" He insisted. "My way."

"Well it's the wrong way, Nick! And If Warrick _was_ here he'd tell you the same thing." She squeezed his arm tightly before releasing him altogether and taking a step back. "Sort yourself out Nicky. Sara doesn't need this kind of help from you."

X x x

"Hey," DB greeted, not even needing to turn around to know who had just strode into his office. "It's good to see you again."

"I wish I could say it's good to be back." She cleared her throat, shifting her weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. He finally turned to face her, two mugs of steaming tea in his hands.

"Yeah. I'm sorry it's under these conditions." He added sadly, handing her a drink.

She accepted it, but more to give her something to hold than out of any desire to drink it. She, after all, knew what he put in his tea. However, her hands were shaking that much she opted to place it safely on the nearest shelf lest she drop it.

"Yeah, well. Me too." She sighed. "What happened? I thought I asked you to take care of them for me?"

There was no accusation in her voice, just confusion. Still, he dropped his head in shame.

"I know. I'm sorry." He mumbled, reaching out to pull her into a hug. She tucked her head under his chin, leaning into the strong chest. "We … we don't really know what happened yet."

"Morgan kind of filled me in on the phone." She sniffed, shuffling out of his embrace. "To be honest, I don't really care about the guy in the hotel right now. I just want her to be okay."

"Yeah, so do we." He nodded. "Jim called a while ago; they're letting us see her now. The guys are just finishing up then we're going to set off. Where's Nick?"

"I don't know." She threw her hands out helplessly. "He's probably sloped off somewhere to sulk."

"We'll find him." DB assured her. "You coming with?"

"I'll catch you up later." She dragged a hand through her reddish hair, shaking it out. She'd acquired a fringe since departing the lab, but appeared to be growing it out again. "I haven't even checked into the hotel yet."

"Okay, well you let me know if you need anything."

"I will." She nodded, taking a few nervous steps towards the door. "Just … look after her 'til I get there?"

"Yeah, don't worry." He promised, suddenly flashing back to the last conversation they'd had before she left Vegas.

The conversation where he'd promised he would look after her guys. Her team.

Feeling his heart constrict in his chest, he swallowed hard and repeated his previous sentiments. "Don't worry about her. She's not going anywhere right now."

X x x

"She looks so delicate." Greg noted softly, barely grazing her hand with his fingertips.

"She is." Finn agreed huskily.

"She's a fighter." Morgan added, placing a comforting hand on Greg's arm. "She'll get through this."

"Yeah, of course she will." Nick cleared his throat from the door, alerting them to his presence.

They didn't know exactly what Catherine had said to him during their animated argument in the hall, or where he had been since; but it appeared to have subdued him considerably.

"Hey, glad you could join us." Russell nodded at him.

The two men shared a long look, before Nick finally broke the connection and sloped up to the bottom of the bed; resting his hands on the railing. Sara's bruises, so much like the ones adorning his own face, stared back at him from beneath the breathing apparatus and jarring wires.

DB pushed himself off the far wall, where he'd been observing his team's dynamic quietly, and walked carefully towards the patient.

"She's not going anywhere tonight." He mused softly, reaching out to stroke Sara's cheek affectionately with the back of his hand. "You guys should go home, get some proper rest."

Morgan was the only one to react to the suggestion, nodding in agreement with their boss.

"Yeah, good idea." She cleared her throat, wiping subtly at the tears that had materialised unnoticed in her eyes.

"I'm not leaving her." Greg murmured quietly, his gaze remaining fixed on Sara's serene face. Morgan and DB shared a look over the bed and she placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Russell's right Greg, we can't do anything for her now." She informed him. "Come on, I'll give you a ride home."

"I'm not … I can't leave her yet." He insisted, angry tears beginning to stream down his face. He'd been holding it together surprisingly well until now, but actually seeing the damage Sara had inflicted on herself … it was harder than he'd anticipated.

Nick stepped forward, straightening up to his full height.

"Hey, listen to her Greg." He said coolly. "We all need some rest. And then we'll go to Sara's home and see if we can find something to clear up this whole mess? Okay?"

"Yeah, yeah I think that's a good idea." Morgan nodded eagerly.

Greg flicked his gaze between the two of them for a long minute, considering the bargain. Eventually, he let his shoulders sink in defeat.

DB nodded gratefully at Nick, glad the CSI had calmed down somewhat after his earlier mood.

"Get some sleep guys." He called after the departing CSIs. "Come back to it tomorrow with fresh eyes."

Finally, he turned his attention to the only remaining member of team. She barely even seemed aware that they were alone, her attention was so fixed on Sara.

"You should go home too." He said, walking around the bed to perch on the edge of the mattress.

Slowly, she lifted her gaze to his weathered face, a familiar smile hiding somewhere behind her green-brown eyes.

"Not yet." She said, her voice thick with exhaustion.

"Jules…"

"I, I know." She held her hands up. "I'll go home in a little while, I promise. Just … not yet."

He narrowed his eyes at her, offering an imperceptive nod. He knew why she was so reluctant to leave and he wasn't going to press her into talking about it now. She clearly wasn't up to that kind of conversation yet.

"Okay, don't be too long." He pressed a kiss to his fingertips and laid them over Sara's hand before standing up and squeezing Finn's shoulder gently.

"I promise." She nodded, twisting in her seat to follow his long strides to the door.

He knew that she was lying, just as much as she knew she wasn't going anywhere tonight.

Alone with her thoughts once again, she picked up Sara's hand and returned to her previous dark musings.


	9. Fiery eyes now burned

**More Catherine, as promised :) **

**x x x x**

She didn't know how long it had been since the others had left; but she'd fallen asleep three times already, and when her eyes finally fluttered open again the sun was already streaming through the windows.

Sara hadn't stirred, not surprising really. Her hand remained firmly clasped in Finn's grip, her dark curls splayed across the stark white pillows.

Julie released her and stretched her stiff arms up, feeling the joints click in quick succession. She was just considering whether it was time for her to go home, when the door creaked open and a familiar woman stepped inside.

She was a little older, with reddish-blonde hair and a light tan. She was dressed smart, but low key; much like she had been when she strolled into the lab yesterday.  
Her piercing blue eyes were narrowed suspiciously at Finn across the small room, clearly trying to put a name to the face.

"Julie Finlay?" She asked cautiously at last.

"That's right. Finn." The blonde smiled, attempting to stand up. Unfortunately, she'd been in the same position for so long that her legs had fallen asleep, so she settled for a greeting nod instead. "We, uh, we weren't formally introduced earlier. Catherine Willows, I take it?"

Coming completely into the room, Cath turned her gaze to the bed and her features softened.

"That's right." She answered absently, walking slowly towards Sara.

Finn nodded, suddenly realising why this woman looked so familiar. There was a photo of her with the rest of the team on Nick's desk. If she recalled correctly, it was actually from Catherine's final day in Vegas. Her arms were wrapped around Sara and Greg's shoulders, a tearful smile on her face.

Cath didn't seem aware of the scrutiny she was receiving; her attention had already fixed itself on their friend's prone body. She reached out to rest a gentle hand on Sara's slender arm.

"Oh Jesus, girl." She sighed sadly, her eyes seeking out every visible injury on the pale skin. "What have you done to yourself?"

Finn smiled sympathetically as she watched the tender actions transpiring between the old colleagues. She understood that they'd worked together for a long time, but she had to admit that she was unclear on their state of friendship. Clearly, these two women had been pretty close once upon a time.

After a long moment, Catherine straightened up and sniffed.

"Where are the others?"

"They went home to get some rest." Finn answered. "DB didn't really give them much choice, to be honest."

"But not you?" Cath queried with a surprised frown.

"No." Finn cleared her throat uncomfortably, her smile fading slightly. "No, not me."

Reclaiming her hold on Sara's hand, she watched Catherine walk around to the other side of the bed and sink gracefully into the spare seat.

They were now facing each other over the patient: the replacement and the one she was brought in to replace, brought together through one tragic event.

Having seemingly lost interest in Finn for the time being, Catherine submerged her hand in Sara's hair, careful to avoid the bandage wrapped around her forehead as she dragged her fingers tenderly through the waves.

"Morgan called you." Finn said at last, more to fill the silence than anything. "Did she fill you in on the details?"

"Yeah, most of them." Cath released a deep breath. "She told me what happened with Nick – she mentioned that he wasn't handling it too well, either."

"No, he's not." There was a pause as she considered whether it was worth attempting to keep the conversation going. She'd been here for so long with just her own dark thoughts for company, she wasn't quite ready to fall back into that chasm of silence just yet.

"I've heard a lot about you." She mumbled softly at last.

Finally, Catherine flicked her eyes across the bed to actually meet her gaze. Slowly, she raised a single eyebrow in curious questioning.

"Likewise."

X x x

"Hey, should we really be doing this?" Morgan asked uncertainly, dancing from one foot to the other in the cool wind as Nick fiddled with the lock. "I mean, Sara might not want us in here pawing through her things."

"Maybe not," Nick agreed, finally releasing the door and tapping in the alarm code. "But if we're going to figure out what's going on, it's a good place to start."

Behind him, Greg stooped down to scoop up her mail as they all piled through the glass front door.

"Wow." Morgan breathed, taking in the spacious modern décor. "This place is gorgeous!"

"Yeah." Greg mumbled, tossing the mail onto the coffee table and surveying the open-plan home.

The boys had been here often enough now, it was no great surprise to them.

Nick placed his kit on the floor and turned to the other two, clearing his throat. As the most senior CSI here, he guessed it was up to him to delegate.

"Alright Greg, you take the living room. I'll check her office." He paused, attempting to disguise the awkward blush creeping up his neck. "Morgan you'd better take the bedroom."

"Yep." She nodded soberly, making her way down the hallway, taking mental pictures of the layout as she went. It looked like something out of a catalogue.

Then again, she mused sadly, it probably didn't get used that often. Sara seemed to spend more time at work than here.

X x x

"Come on, give me something." Nick muttered to himself, rummaging through the paperwork that was neatly stacked on Sara's desk.

Bank statements, bills, stray case files. But nothing useful. Nothing that could tell them what state of mind she was in. Nothing to identify their dead male.

Sinking into the chair, he pulled out his cell phone and dialled the familiar number for the third time this morning.

"Come on Grissom." He breathed. "Pick up the phone."

If this was how hard it was to get hold of the elusive entomologist, he could understand Sara's growing frustration over the last few months.

With a discouraged sigh, he snapped the phone shut and shoved it back in his pocket.

"What the hell are you two playing at?" He grumbled, reaching over to pick up a framed photograph. It was clearly taken somewhere hot and exotic. Their honeymoon, possibly. Gil's arms were wrapped around Sara's waist from behind and she was leaning back against his shoulder, smiling up at him.

They looked happy … the perfect couple.

Shaking his head, he carefully replaced the picture and turned his attention back to the desk. Sliding the top drawer open, his brow raised in hope.

Lying on top of a selection of stationary and letters was a simple manila folder. It looked like an ordinary case file.

But what was inside was not exactly what he would call ordinary.

X x x

"I can't believe this happened." Catherine murmured, barely even aware that she had uttered the words out loud.

"Yeah, well it kind of took us all by surprise." Finn admitted sheepishly. "I thought I knew Sara, but I honestly never saw this coming."

"Sara's good at hiding things." Cath mumbled. "Trust me, whatever you think you know about her, you don't know anything."

It wasn't meant as an insult, but the comment ruffled Finn all the same.

"I know her well enough to know that her marriage isn't holding up too good right now." She squared her shoulders, shaking her blonde hair out. "I know that she's been spending a lot more time at the lab lately. I just … I couldn't get her to talk to me about it."

Catherine scrutinised the woman for a few seconds with narrowed eyes, debating how to respond to the attitude.

"Like I said, she's good at hiding things." She repeated at last, looking away. "Too good, sometimes. But she's not a criminal. If she stabbed someone, it would be in self-defence."

"Well, we're not sure she did kill him." Finn corrected, glad for the change of subject. "She had zolpidem in her system, too much to be upright at the time of the murder."

"Zolpidem?" Cath repeated, flicking her eyes back down to Sara's peaceful face. "That doesn't make sense – Sara doesn't take pills."

"What do you mean?"

"She hates them." Cath shook her head again, her eyebrows knitting in confusion. "She told me once that she avoids them at all cost; she won't even take painkillers if she can help it."

X x x

"I found zolpidem; prescription was filled a week ago." Morgan announced, wandering back into the living room. Greg looked up, holding out his hand for the tub of pills.

"She was prescribed 5 millgrams a night." He read, twisting the cap off and peering inside. "It's nearly full. If she took 115 milligrams there shouldn't be this many still in here."

As he tipped his head towards the ceiling, considering this puzzling piece of information with a frown, Morgan had wandered over to the sideboard and was dragging her hand across the vintage record player.

"Hey," She called idly. "Do you think Nick's been acting weird since Cath arrived?"

"Hmm." Greg mumbled unhelpfully, busy slipping the pills into an evidence bag.

"Well, I mean, he's been weird ever since this all started." She continued to ramble, scanning Sara's eclectic taste in music with great interest. "But since Catherine got here he's been … quieter. More brooding."

"I guess." Greg shrugged again. They might be willing to work together, but there was still some animosity between the boys and he wasn't really ready to discuss it yet.

On the other side of the room, Nick wandered in and eyed them both suspiciously for a minute.

"Hey." He greeted at last, getting their attention. "I found something."

Putting down their respective items, Greg and Morgan walked around the couch and peered into the folder he was holding.

"I found it in her top desk drawer." He explained, clearing his throat.

"Wow." Morgan's eyebrows shot into her hairline at the photos. They looked like surveillance images, taken in a parking lot somewhere. "Well, that's not our victim."

"No, no it's not." Nick agreed, his jaw set. "And it's not her husband either."

"Hey." Greg snapped, sending his mate a warning glare. "Let's not go there."

"You know what I don't get?" Morgan interrupted quickly, having no particular desire to get caught up in yet another of their fights. "How could we not notice that something was this wrong?"

"Well, if there's one thing Sara's good at, it's hiding things."

"Yeah, but still … she's obviously been struggling: sleeping pills, marriage problems … shouldn't there have been some signs?"

"There was." Nick dropped his eyes guiltily to the floor. "We just weren't paying enough attention."

The distressing notion was cut short by the distinctive sound of water running.

"Did someone leave a tap on?" Greg asked with a frown.

"No, no that's…" Nick trailed off, cocking his head to the side and following the sound into the kitchen.

The dishwasher continued to hiss and clunk as the cycle came to a finish.

Sharing a concerned look with his colleagues, Nick opened the door and peeked inside.

"Oh, hell no." He breathed. "You've got to be kidding me!"


	10. Ominous bird of yore

**I know, I know ... another mean cliffhanger.**  
**But the more angry reviews you leave, the faster I'll have to update :P**

**x x x x**

"So," Julie breathed, breaking the awkward silence that had befallen them. "Are you Team Sara or Team Grissom?"

Catherine blinked at her, taken aback by the tactless question.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, it just feels like some people care more about Sara's supposed infidelity than the fact that she's potentially suicidal." Finn shrugged with a tight smile.

"Really?" Cath queried, quirking an eyebrow. She didn't need to ask who Julie was referring to, but it was still a surprise to hear that anyone could be so callous under these circumstances. "Well, Grissom _was_ revered at the lab." She conceded with a small frown.

"Yeah," Finn touched her fingertips lightly to Sara's head. "She may as well have cheated on God."

Catherine met her gaze, an unreadable expression clouding her features. For a moment, Finn thought that she'd crossed a line, when the older woman finally released a sad sigh.

"I warned her that it would break her heart in the end."

"What, marrying Grissom?"

"Gil loves Sara, I know he does." Cath insisted, pursing her lips. "He just doesn't always know how to show it. And Sara … she tries to pretend that she doesn't need other people, but it's not true. She needs affection – it's all she's ever really wanted." The strawberry-blonde paused, dropping her gaze to the bandaged hand wrapped in her own firm grip. "She's just never been given enough to know how to ask for it."

"I thought you said that no one really knows Sara." Finn pointed out with a sly smirk. Cath, however, rose easily to the challenge.

"Yeah, but I've got a twelve year head start on you."

The remark elicited a raised eyebrow, but Finn elected not to comment this time lest she get shot down again.

"She nearly left once." Catherine continued, idly drawing circles on the back of Sara's hand.

"Left Grissom?"

"Left the lab. It was before they got together." She cleared her throat, casting a brief glance at her companion. "You know that Sara's vegetarian, right?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, of course you do, because you work with her. But Grissom hadn't noticed – or he'd forgotten." She shrugged. "It was a small thing, but it was the final straw after a lot of insensitive acts on his part. I told him that he needed to do something, to fix it before she left."

"And what did he do?"

Catherine's lips twitched into a smile.

"He sent her a plant. Not flowers, a plant."

"Because she's vegetarian?" Finn bit back a laugh. "What, was he expecting her to eat it?"

"I don't know." Cath chuckled, shaking her head.

"Well," Finlay sighed, relieved that the earlier tension had eased somewhat. "It obviously worked. I take it she stayed."

"Yeah." Cath's expression softened and her smile faded slightly. "Yeah, she did."

X x x

"Damn." Greg ran a hand over his face. "This can't be happening."

"How the hell did it get here?" Morgan asked, gesturing wildly between the dishwasher and the front door. "We've been here the whole time, if we didn't set it off and Sara didn't…"

"Let's worry about that later." Nick said, snapping on a pair of latex gloves and reaching in to tentatively remove the single item.

They all stared at it in pensive silence for a long moment, considering what to do next.

"Well, if no one else is going to say it I will." Greg cleared his throat at last. "I think it's time for a family meeting."

X x x

Before Finn could question Catherine's sudden change in demeanour, the ventilator began to beep frantically at them and Sara's slender body started to twist and writhe beneath the thin blanket.

"What's going on?" Finn asked rhetorically as both women rose in tandem from their seats. "Is she convulsing?"

"Sara?" Catherine called out firmly, pressing a hand to the girl's chest.

To their surprise, it seemed to have an effect as Sara's struggling diminished and she turned towards the familiar voice.

Her eyes were still closed and the wires and tubes taped across her face continued to do a lot of the work for her; but she could hear them. That was something at least.

"Sara, honey?" Catherine called again, softening her voice. "It's okay, we're here."

Finn reclaimed the hold on her hand, squeezing it as much as she dared.

"It's alright babe." She cooed gently. "You're going to be okay."

Their words seemed to have the desired effect as Sara settled down with merely a few snuffles.

"Good girl." Cath smiled, straightening the covers out over her friend. "I guess we should inform someone about this."

The women exchanged a look, neither one wanting to leave Sara's side when she was so close to waking up.

However, their silent staring contest was cut short by the ringing of an illicit phone. With a furtive glance around them, Finn fished it out of her pocket and checked the small screen.

"Hey Nick, guess wha…" she trailed off, her eyes automatically falling onto Sara's face. "Oh. Okay … No, I'm still at the hospital. Catherine's here too … okay, we'll be right there."

She hung up, meeting the other woman's expectant gaze across the bed.

"They want us to meet them at the lab." She paused. "They think they've found the murder weapon at her house."

X x x

It sat, quite innocently, in the middle of the table as they all stared at it in confounded silence.

"The hotel confirmed it as one of theirs. I compared it to the wounds." Greg mumbled at last. "It's a match, but the dishwasher removed any trace of DNA or fingerprints."

"Even if Sara had put it in the dishwasher herself, she couldn't have set it off to finish just as we were there." Morgan pointed out. "A single cycle lasts, what? An hour at most?"

"Yeah, and Sara's been in the hospital for nearly thirty hours." Finn added. "So, who else has access to her house?"

"Myself, Greg. Grissom." Nick listed. "No one else that I know of."

With a slow nod, Finn turned to Catherine.

"Hey, didn't you say something about the pills? That you didn't think Sara would have taken them?"

"Yeah." Cath hummed. "Well, she never used to."

"What, she told you that?" Nick asked, surprised that he hadn't known that about his old friend. He looked across at Greg, who appeared equally flummoxed by the news.

"She had a headache once." Cat frowned, trying to recall the conversation to memory. "I offered her some painkillers but she … she wouldn't take them. She said that she didn't take pills for personal reasons, but she wouldn't go into details about it."

"Are you thinking that she was drugged?" Morgan suggested. "That maybe someone slipped them to her."

"I … I don't know what to think." Catherine threw her hands out weakly. "I guess it's possible, especially if someone else has access to her property."

The three younger CSIs shared a knowing look and Nick produced a folder from under his notes. He'd been keeping it quiet until now, but it seemed like the right time to bring it up.

"Well, I might be able to help with that." He slid the images across the table one at a time for the supervisors to see.

In them, Sara was clearly enjoying the company of an attractive young man, who had her pressed up against her car with their lips locked in a passionate clinch.

"Do we know who this guy is?" Catherine asked, tapping the images with her manicured nail.

"No." Greg moped. "She never mentioned him to any of us."

"Why would she?" Nick muttered under his breath, but Cath heard it all the same.

"Nicky." She warned, briefly catching Finn's eye. "Don't."

"I'm sorry Catherine," he gestured to the photo on her hand. "But she's clearly been hiding things from us. What am I supposed to think?"

"I don't know what's been going on in her life, Nick." The woman continued sternly. "Do you? Did you ever ask her if everything was alright? If she was having marriage problems?"

His obstinate silence was answer enough and she took it as acceptance that he was done arguing for the time being.

"Catherine's right." DB added absently, still busy perusing the photos. "I'm just as concerned as you are about Sara's behaviour, but we shouldn't speculate. Not until we know all the facts."

"Alright," Finn breathed, changing the subject. "So, what do we do next?"

Catherine was the first to answer, slipping naturally back into the familiar mindset of a criminalist .

"We follow the evidence."

X x x

"Hey." Cath barked, startling the technician from his work.

"Hey Catherine," Hodges grinned. "It's nice to see you again. You get homesick or did you just miss the superior intellectual conversations you get here?"

"Have you run the sleeping pills found at Sara's home yet?" She asked bluntly, forgoing all pleasantries.

"No, I…"

"Run them." She barked. "And get the container to Mandy for prints."

"Yeah, sure thing boss. Hey Catherine…" He called her back hurriedly before she could disappear. She paused in the doorway, raising an impatient eyebrow at him as he squirmed awkwardly on the spot. "I heard that Sara nearly woke up earlier?"

"The doctors did some tests before we left, there's still no indication that she's coming round yet." She exhaled slowly. "But, it did seem like she could hear us."

"Oh." He frowned, nodding slowly. "Oh, well that's something to hold on to at least."

"Yeah." She pursed her lips, pointing at the evidence bag sat on his table. "Call me as soon as you get anything from them."

X x x

"Greg."

He came to an abrupt stop, cocking his head to the side and listening for it again.

"Greg!"

He turned, finally locating the source of the hissed calls.

"Henry?" He inquired, wandering into the DNA lab. The young technician was twisting his hands anxiously, his frantic eyes darting from side to side.

"I think I screwed up the DNA." He blurted out in a panicked voice.

"What?" Greg barked, his brown eyes going wide. "The DNA from the hotel room? On Sara's case?"

"I … I don't know what I did," the young tech babbled nervously. "But look at the reference samples and then look at the markers." He rammed the piece of paper into his colleague's hands, pointing at the names.

Greg scanned the numbers with narrowed eyes, dredging up his extensive knowledge of DNA profiling.

"I don't think you did anything wrong." He frowned. "But if this is what it looks like then we might need to do a kin test to make some sense of it all."

He put down the results sheet and snatched up a lab coat from the rack, watched on by a bemused Henry.

"Well," the CSI gestured to the fridge pointedly. "Get the reagents; I'm not going to do this by myself."

X x x

"Okay, this case just got a whole new level of weird." Greg declared, sailing into the layout room with a fidgety Henry in tow. "We ran the DNA from the bed sheets and the SAE kit against Sara and the male victim."

"No match?" Catherine guessed, almost hopefully.

"Oh no, it's a match." Greg choked out a dry laugh as he handed her the sheet.

"Okay, so we know they had sex." DB hummed.

"Yeah, well this is where it gets freaky." Greg added, handing a second piece of paper to the boss.

Everyone stared at him earnestly, watching his expression morph into one of distress.

"Hold on, the male victim in the hotel is a relative of Sara's?"

"What?" Nick and Catherine barked in unison.

Greg pursed his lips, taking a deep breath.

"He's her brother."


	11. Volume of forgotten lore

"Wow." DB whistled. "Okay, didn't see that coming."

"No, hang on." Nick held his hands up, his brow furrowed in bewilderment. "Sara doesn't have a brother, she's an only child."

"I swear it's accurate; I did the test three times." Henry piped up hurriedly.

"It's okay, Henry." Greg raised a hand in his defence. "I checked the results myself Nick, they're right."

"So, hang on a second." Morgan interrupted. "We've got a brother and sister in a hotel room together." She scrunched her nose up in disgust. "And then one of them ends up shot and the other stabbed?"

"Yeah, and then a few hours later, Sara throws herself off the roof." Greg added, although the statement was somewhat obsolete.

"Wait a minute," Finn rummaged through the paperwork, finding the sheet she wanted. "His fingerprints came back to a Jack _Stone_. Is it possible that Sara didn't know he was her brother?"

"I guess it's possible." Nick conceded uncertainly. "Although that would be one hell of a coincidence, don't you think?"

"Well, whether she knew or not it still doesn't explain how they ended up in bed together. Or how he ended up dead." DB mumbled.

"The nurse who carried out the SAE kit did say there was some bruising but she couldn't be sure that it was from a sexual assault." Finn added, softening her voice.

"Either way, this is still so wrong." Morgan muttered, shaking her head in disbelief.

The sentiment was succeeded by silent nods of agreement, although no one else dared voice their thoughts out loud.

"Alright." DB clapped his hands together, pursing his lips. "We're clearly missing something here. Now, DNA doesn't lie, right? So, either Sara didn't know that he was her brother; or she didn't tell you that she had a brother."

"Why would she lie about something like that?" Morgan asked with a puzzled frown.

"Doc Robbins found evidence that he was a drug user." Greg answered. "Maybe she was ashamed of him. Or she'd lost touch with him."

"I know Sara spent some time in foster care as a child." Catherine released a slow breath, resting her hands on the table. "If they were separated in care, there's a chance she hasn't seen him since she was a kid."

"Well, that's what we're going to find out." Russell continued. "So, Morgan and Greg; you two follow up on 'Jack Stone', see what you can find out about him. Catherine, what do you know about Sara's circumstances?"

"Not much." She shifted uncomfortably, sensing where he was going with this. "Just that she was in the system for a while."

"Okay, well find out what else you can. Finn, you can help with that." He paused, flashing them a sweet smile. "It'll be good for you two to spend some time together."

Catherine rolled her eyes, offering a sarcastic thanks and gesturing for the other woman to follow her.

"Nick, you can help me." DB continued, slapping the Texan on the shoulder.

"With what?" He enquired, almost nervously.

"We're going to try and find out who this guy is." He tapped the photos taken from the house. "And which amateur photographer is responsible for them."

X x x

"Should we really be picking apart Sara's history like this?" Finn asked uncertainly as they settled themselves into a quiet corner of the lab.

"Probably not." Cath agreed, spinning in the swivel chair to face her work-partner. "But unless you've got any better suggestions…"

"Actually I might." Julie smiled, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Catherine.

"Do you feel like sharing?" The ex-supervisor asked tetchily. Evidently thoroughly enjoying herself, Finn strode towards her and leant against the desk.

"Okay, so we know that Sara was in his room. What we don't know is why; and how they ended up in bed together."

"And how Sara got shot." Cath added. "But without hearing her side of it, we won't be able to answer that."

"Can't we?" Finn asked rhetorically, her eyes sparkling with something akin to mischief.

The woman was starting to grate on Catherine's nerves, but she held her tongue and nodded for her to continue.

"I say we go back to the scene and have another look around. Maybe we'll find some evidence of why he was in Vegas."

"Haven't they released the scene yet?" Even as she uttered the question, she could tell from Jules' gleeful expression that she was wrong.

"Sherriff Liston requested that it be kept available, at least until Sara wakes up."

Cath pursed her lips, considering the suggestion. DB wouldn't approve; but on the other hand she really didn't want to start picking through Sara's social services folder.

Not until they absolutely had to.

Flicking her eyes back to Finn's devious grin, a small smile twitched at her own lips.  
Perhaps her successor wasn't so bad after all.

"I'll drive."

X x x

"I don't get it." Greg scowled at the computer screen. "No work cards, no DMV records. It's like this guy doesn't exist."

"Well, we know his criminal record so let's start there." Morgan suggested, extracting the information from the sheaf of paperwork.

Offering a shrug of agreement, Greg re-situated himself by the whiteboard, a marker pen poised at the ready, and nodded for her to start.

"California, 1983. Jack was busted for cannabis possession." She began. "He was only seventeen and it was a first offence so he was evidently let off with a warning. Then, two years later he was caught again and given a six month suspended sentence."

"At which point, he moved to Arizona." Greg added, scrawling the information on his board.

"Yep. And in January 1986 he was arrested for theft, but again released on a warning."

"This guy's harder to pin than Al Capone."

"Well, not quite." She corrected. "In 1987 he was arrested _and_ charged, for possession of heroin. Spent two years in a county jail."

"That takes us to 1989."

"At which point, it seems he moved to New York…" she paused, lowering her notes. "Why move so far away?"

Greg furrowed his brow in thought, hurriedly doing the math in his head.

"From September 1990, Sara was at college, at Harvard."

"So, you think he might have followed her?"

"It's possible." He shrugged, adding the information in with a question mark. "Maybe he was trying to keep an eye on her. You know, looking out for his little sister."

"Well, if that was his aim then he wasn't doing a very good job of it. In 1991 he was busted for multiple thefts and burglaries, and sentenced to four years in prison." She snapped the folder shut, resting her palms on the table. "After that, he disappeared off the map."

"Yeah, literally." Greg scoffed. "As far as I can tell, there's no record of him anywhere after 1995."

Morgan tipped her gaze to the ceiling, a thoughtful look crossing her features.

"So maybe we need to go back, pre-1983." She hummed, moving across the room to another computer. "If Sara was in foster care, that means Jack could have been too, right?"

"What are you thinking?" Greg inquired, tailing her around the lab.

"I'm thinking, a lot of people change their name when they leave foster care. Sidle to Stone – it's not that much of a stretch." She shrugged hopefully, tapping the name into a search engine.

X x x

Catherine's sad blue eyes scanned the room from her position in the doorway; her heart sinking with every evidence marker she spotted.

Technically she wasn't meant to be here, since she didn't actually work for the lab anymore. But it was remarkable just how easy she slipped back into the mindset of a CSI.

"So," Jules cleared her throat, stepping up behind her. "DB tells me your speciality is blood spatter."

"That's right." She hummed, resisting the urge to get defensive of her area of expertise.

"Mine too."

Cath turned, sharing a look with the other woman.

"Alright." She said at last, moving aside. "So, where would you start in here?"

Finn slid past her, her narrowed eyes dancing around the scene.

"Well, this is where Jack was found, with his head facing towards the bed." She pointed at the blood pool that had soaked into the cream carpet. "Over here," she continued, wandering to the chest of drawers; "is where they found Sara's blood. And the bullet was lodged in the bathroom doorframe."

Catherine moved to the en-suite, touching her fingertips to the splintered hole in the wood.

"So, if Jack shot Sara then he must have been standing on the left side of the bed." She noted. "Facing the bathroom."

"Yeah, and the bullet entered at an upward angle, so it's possible that they were struggling." Finn added. "Fighting for the gun, possibly?"

Catherine made a noise of agreement, joining her colleague by the dresser. She grazed the blood spatter, creating directional lines in her mind.

Glancing up, she caught Julie's gaze again.

"Let's string it."

Finn reached into her vest pocket, producing a roll of red string with a cocky smirk.

"Way ahead of you."

X x x

"No way." Greg breathed, leaning over Morgan's shoulder to scan the screen. "Where did you find this?"

"On the internet." She swallowed hard, her eyes glazing over as the words flashed in front of her.

It was right there, in black and white: all the sordid secrets of Sara's family history.

_Sex_

_Drugs_

_Murder_

_Suicide _

X x x

"The surveillance photos from Sara's desk were a bust." Nick sighed. "Archie tried running his face against the DMV database, but he couldn't get a clear enough angle for a match."

"How about you guys?" DB asked, turning to the younger members of the team. "Did you get anything on our dead brother?"

"Oh we got something alright." Greg rushed out, sliding a photograph across the table. "Morgan ran a search under his real name – Jack Sidle."

"So, he and Sara _were_ raised together?" Nick frowned, scooping the image up. It was a mug-shot of a drugged-out adolescent with glassy red-rimmed eyes. He was a lot younger, but buried beneath the unruly locks of dark hair was definitely the face of Jack Stone.

Or Jack Sidle, apparently.

"So, he gets out of the system and changes his name." DB realised aloud. "Good catch, Morgan."

"Don't thank me yet." She exchanged a sad look with Greg, presenting them with a second piece of information. "We also got a hit to an old case in California from the 1980s. And just a warning, it's not pretty."

Slowly, Russell and Nick's expressions fell to match those of their counterparts.

"Oh, man." Nick dragged a hand over his face.

"'_Laura Sidle is believed to have killed her husband after suffering years of abuse.'_" DB read from the article, shaking his head slowly in loss. "_'Their two children; Jack, aged fifteen and nine-year-old Sara are being cared for by the State.'_"

"And it gets worse." Morgan continued with a despondent sigh. "I pulled up the old case file. There isn't much in it, but I did find this much: Angelo Sidle was stabbed seven times in the chest."

"Right." The boss groaned. "Jack was stabbed seven times in the chest."

"This wasn't just some random killing." Greg pointed out. "Someone's trying to set Sara up!"

"Yeah, someone who knows her pretty well." Nick added darkly. "Even we didn't know about all this and we've known Sara for over ten years."

"Okay; so we need to find out what Jack was doing in Vegas, why Sara was in his hotel room and who…" Russell trailed off, glancing around the room and realising for the first time what was missing. "Where are the girls?"


	12. Some late visitor entreating

Catherine cocked her head to the side, surveying their work with more than a hint of pride.

It had been a long time since she'd had to string a crime scene, but it felt good. It felt familiar.

"I found more blood drops down the hall." Finn announced, wandering back into the room and breaking her train of thought. "They're probably from Sara's injury. I'll get them to Henry."

Cath gestured to the room, placing her hands on her hips.

"Okay. You want to run it?"

Finn stepped up beside her, her green eyes narrowed in concentration.

"Drinks glasses suggest everything started out amicable enough. Then at some point things moved to the bed …" she paused, swallowing around the lump in her throat. "Wood scrapings from under Sara's fingernails and scratch marks on the bedpost suggest there could have been a struggle."

"Jack looked fairly strong. He could easily have overpowered her." Catherine agreed quietly.

"She probably reached for her weapon to defend herself. It could have gotten dropped in the struggle, or he managed to get it from her. Then, somehow, she manages to get off the bed…"

"He shoots at her but misses and the bullet grazes her shoulder." Catherine paused, chewing on her lower lip for a second. "Morgan checked her laundry at the house and found a shirt with blood on the shoulder, but no tears or bullet swipes."

"So she wasn't wearing the shirt at the time." Jules hummed. "She likely grabbed her clothes and left right after she was shot."

"If Jack was still holding the gun, she was probably running." Cath breathed, sinking carefully onto the bed. "Which would explain her blood in the hallway."

"And Jack dropped the weapon, which is how it ended up under the bed." Finn finished, sidling to the bed and sitting down beside Catherine. "And this would all make perfect sense … if he wasn't her brother."

"Doesn't mean he didn't do it." Catherine mumbled, checking her flashing pager. "Has DB tried to call you?"

"Yeah, three times." She grinned, extracting her vibrating cell phone from her pocket and peering down at the screen. "Oh, make that four times."

They shared a knowing smile as she cleared her throat and flicked the phone open.

"Hey DB." She greeted cheerfully. "What's up?"

"_Thanks for the heads-up, you two."_

"Oh come on, I thought you wanted us to work together."

Despite her uncertainty about this woman, Cath couldn't quite suppress the smile that twitched at her lips.

"_Yeah right,"_ Finn could practically see DB rolling his eyes behind his glasses. _"Look, I need you two back here. Morgan's found something that you need to see." _

"Alright, we're on our way back." She hung up, meeting Cath's expectant gaze. "They've got something."

X x x

"Ladies, nice of you to join us." Russell greeted coolly.

"We know, we should have told you." Finn held up her hands before he could begin to lecture them.

"Actually, technically I don't work here anymore so I don't have to check in and out." Catherine pointed out, somewhat smugly.

Greg and Morgan attempted to hide their amusement, while DB merely disregarded the cocky comment with a choked scoff.

"Well, you'll be glad to hear it wasn't all for naught." Finn continued with a smile. "We think we know the sequence of events in Jack's hotel room that night. Up until Sara left, anyway."

"Good." He nodded, marginally impressed. "Do we know what Jack was doing in Vegas?"

"Not yet, and we still don't know why Sara was meeting with him."

"Or who killed him." Greg chipped in despondently.

"Well the room was booked in Sara's name." Nick reminded them. "So, she obviously knew he was coming. Maybe it was just a social visit."

"With the drug-addict brother she denied having?" Greg retorted sceptically. "I doubt it."

"Well, I don't know Greg, do I? Because Sara didn't tell me!" The exasperation in Nick's voice was mirrored in his tired features, but it didn't stop Greg from opening his mouth to offer a reply.

However, Finn quickly cut in before another argument could break out between the warring boys.

"So, what's this exciting piece of information you guys have found?" She asked as brightly as she could, barely concealing her intrigue.

"Well, exciting is certainly one word for it." Morgan exhaled, producing the website printout. "We found out why Sara and Jack were taken into care."

"A newspaper article." Finn noted. "From January 1983."

Reading over her shoulder, Catherine sucked in a breath.

"Sara's mother _killed_ her father?"

"According to the case file, there had been numerous allegations of assault and domestic abuse prior to his death." DB explained soberly. "That night, she just snapped."

"Yeah, abuse victims usually do at some point." Catherine shook her head sadly, looking away. "Do we know where Laura Sidle is now?"

"Yeah, she's in a care facility in California." Russell answered. "I did wonder about calling to let them know what had happened but I guess under the circumstances …"

"Wait, hold up." Nick held his hands up, quickly flicking through his notes. "I haven't had a chance to go through all of the paperwork I found in Sara's desk, but I did see something; just give me a minute here."

"Something, like what?" The supervisor pressed, removing his glasses and rubbing his tired eyes with the back of his hand.

"Here." Nick produced the invoice. "Sara had her transferred to Tranquil Hours, in Vegas, three months ago."

"Laura Sidle is here?" Finn repeated. "In Vegas?"

"Wait, Tranquil Hours?" Morgan cut her off abruptly. "Why do I know that name?"

"Helen Jordan." Greg frowned. "Remember, the NTSB case?"

"Oh yeah, we went there." She nodded carefully, recalling the zoned-out woman in the wheelchair. "You mean Sara's mother was right down the hall?"

"Alright, so maybe that's why Sara and Jack were meeting. To discuss their mother." DB theorised.

"It still doesn't explain why Jack attacked Sara." Morgan scrunched her nose up.

"No, but it gets us closer to knowing why they were together in that room." Russell hummed, tapping a folder against his chin pensively. "Alright, let's keep digging. Catherine, do you think you can pull some strings with you new buddies in the FBI and get some more information on these people?"

"If you tell me what you're looking for." She shrugged.

"I want to know everything you can find out about Angelo Sidle's murder; and I want to know where the hell Jack Sidle – or Jack Stone – has been for the last twenty years."

"I'm on it." She nodded, pulling out her cell phone and drifting into the corridor.

Outside the room, she moved instinctively towards her office before it struck her that it wasn't her office anymore. Hovering in the middle of the hall for a second, she decided the locker room would be the most private place to make the calls.

Back in the layout room, DB had turned his attention to the younger members of the graveyard team.

"You two said you'd been to this place, Tranquil Hours, before, right?" He queried.

"Yeah, on the place crash case a couple of months ago." Greg agreed.

"Good, go back and see what you can find out from Mother Sidle." He instructed. "Let's see if she knows why her kids are trying to kill each other."

X x x

"Laura Sidle was diagnosed schizophrenic after she killed her husband." Finn stated, placing her hands flat on the table. "She was an abused woman who snapped and stabbed her husband to death. She should never have been charged."

"Yeah, well things were different in the 80s." Nick muttered.

"According to witness reports, Angelo was often drunk and visibly violent to his wife and both his children." She continued to read.

"You know, Sara's always had a problem with domestic abuse cases." Her companion murmured, shaking his head meekly. "I guess now we know why."

"Yeah, these guys almost make the Manson family seem functional." Finn quipped flippantly.

"Hey!" Nick snapped, flicking his blazing dark eyes up to her face. "Have some respect."

"I'm sorry," she held up her hands; but it was too little, too late for the riled Texan.

"No, it's not on!" He growled, ripping off his gloves and throwing them onto the bench. "You have no idea what hell kind of Sara went through as a kid!"

"Do you?" She challenged, folding her arms across her chest defensively, largely unperturbed by his outburst.

He stilled for a moment, exhaling deeply though his flaring nostrils. "I have a better idea than you ever could." He spat at last, pushing himself away from the table and stalking to the door.

"Nick! Wait," She hollered after him, but he didn't stop.

"I need some air." He threw over his shoulder, stropping into the hall in the direction of the main doors with a dramatic flounce.

Emitting a heavy sigh, she cast her gaze back to the table and picked up the old newspaper article. At the bottom of the story, in faded sepia colours, was a photo of the Sidle children staring forlornly at the camera from behind haunted dark eyes. Sara couldn't have been any older than six in the image, suggesting it had been taken long before Angelo's death.

Nick's words, harsh and callous, rang through her head like an accusatory echo.

"You have no idea, Nick." She mumbled sadly, stroking the picture with the pad of her thumb until the ink started to smudge and the colours blurred.

X x x

"Hey."

Morgan looked up, her eyes glistening in the parking-lot lights.

"Hi." She squeaked, wiping away her tears with her sleeve.

Ecklie wandered closer, sliding onto the low wall beside her.

"You alright?" He asked, although he could already tell the answer from her desolate expression.

"No, not really." She shrugged, turning around to face him. "I just … I always thought Sara was so strong, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." He chuckled dryly, wiping a hand over his weary face. "She certainly gives the impression that she's bulletproof." He paused, biting his tongue at the look of disbelief he received. "I'm sorry, that was a poor choice of words."

"It's okay." She chuckled. "I know what you meant."

They lapsed into a thoughtful silence, with Morgan shooting periodic glances at the front door for any sign of Greg. They were meant to be visiting Sara's mother, but he'd left the case notes on his desk.

When the stillness got too much for her to tolerate, she released a deep breath, watching it mist in the cool air, and turned to her father again.

"I guess our family doesn't seem quite so messed up in comparison." She choked out softly.

"No, I guess not." He smiled sadly in agreement, reaching out to place a tentative hand over hers.

"I don't know Sara that well … I guess that's how she likes it, but … I care for her." She sniffed. "I want to help her."

"Well, Sara and I have had a…" Ecklie paused, considering which of the many descriptive words flashing through his mind was most appropriate. "… stormy working relationship. But if there's one thing I know about her, she's a fighter. She'll get through this, M." He promised.

Lord knows, he'd lost count of the number of scrapes Sara had gotten herself into over the years. And out of.

"And for what it's worth, I don't think she had anything to do with this guy's death. Sure she can by fiery at times, but she's not a killer."

"No, I know that." Morgan sniffled, wiping pitifully at the tears starting to spill from her eyes. "I know she wouldn't do that,"

"Well, if you really want to help her," he stood up, stooping down to drop a kiss into his daughter's hair. "Find a way to prove it."

Morgan stared after his departing figure; watching him dip in and out of the shadows, her brow furrowed in perplexity, as Greg finally emerged from the building.

X x x

Sliding the phone back into her pocket, she tipped her head back against the doorframe and scanned the small room.

All she could do now was wait for a phone call back.

And with any luck Grissom might actually answer that last message she'd left him.

Already bored of waiting, she began to wander lazily around the room, recalling the endless conversations sealed forever inside these four walls.

The team had comforted each other in here, they had cried together in here. They had laughed together.

She smothered a sob, recalling the many taunts and teases inflicted on Sara by the boys. The brunette had always played them off with a friendly smile and a cheeky retort.

But in light of recent events, Cath couldn't help wondering whether those jibes had gone deeper than they first thought. Clearly, she had a lot of demons in her history. What if they'd inadvertently caused further distress through some idle comment they'd made to her in passing.

Her pacing came to a stop outside Sara's locker. In all the years working with the girl, she'd never really taken the time to notice what she had in here.

Her tearful eyes danced over the familiar photos tucked inside the door. There was one of a pretty little girl, dark waves spilling down her back as she sat on a beach with her face tilted towards the sun. Another, evidently taken in college, of her curled against a wall with a book propped up against her legs. A skiing trip, a Labrador frolicking in a large garden, a beach party.

Happy memories. And not a single photo of her family.

With a sad sigh, she closed the door and dragged her hand across the cool metal; as if just by that small contact, she could somehow feel closer to her troubled young friend.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She whispered to the empty room.

"Hi." A soft voice greeted, disrupting her quiet moment. "I heard you were back in town."

"Sherriff Liston." Cath greeted, turning away from Sara's locker and attempting to appear composed. "Hi."

"How's Sara doing?"

"She's alright." Catherine shrugged, sinking onto the bench. "She almost started to wake up this morning." There was a touch of hope to her voice, but it was overshadowed by her melancholy expression.

"That's good." The Sherriff nodded genuinely, joining her on the seats. "I'm saving all my prayers for her."

Catherine smiled in gratitude, offering a small nod.

"You know," Liston continued. "That job is still open, the one with the Forensic Science Commission."

Cath lifted her gaze, scrutinising the woman with a raised eyebrow.

"Unless of course you're enjoying working in DC?" The Sherriff added with an almost psychic little smile. Without waiting for a response, she rose to her feet and strode to the door, where she hovered for a moment and turned back to the ex-CSI. "Give my love to Sara next time you see her."

"I will." Catherine nodded absently, her features still belaying her surprise at the coincidently well-timed visit as she watched the woman disappear from sight.


	13. Sat engaged in guessing

**Apologies for the delay, been busy with the Bank Holiday. **

**For those of you who celebrate it, Happy Easter **** :) And for those who don't, Happy Sunday :)**

**x x x x**

"Places like this give me the creeps." Morgan shuddered. "They always seem so … depressing."

"Yeah, I sure hope I never end up somewhere like this." Greg agreed, casting a forlorn glance into the nearest room. A man, not much older than himself, was staring blankly out of a window from his confinement in a battered old wheelchair.

The CSI couldn't help but wonder whether, once upon a time, there had been some light behind those dead eyes.

"If I do, feel free to smother me with a pillow – put me out of my misery."

Even as Morgan uttered the words, it struck them both how insensitive they were given that Sara's fate was still unknown. Greg swallowed hard, shaking away the painful memory of her delicate body encased in bandages and life-preserving wires at the hospital.

Morgan sank her teeth into her lower lip, instantly regretting the statement. Up ahead, she spotted a nurse and quickly jumped on the opportunity to move past the awkward conversation.

"Oh, excuse me." She jogged down the corridor, hurriedly fumbling for her ID card. "Hi, we're from the Crime Lab. We're looking for Laura Sidle."

"I'm sorry." The nurse smiled apologetically, barely giving the badge a second glance. "I'm afraid you can't see her right now."

The criminalists shared a look and Greg straightened up beside her, folding his arms across his chest in an attempt to convey an air of authority.

"We just need to ask her some questions." He pressed. "We can get a warrant, if we need to." That was probably a lie, but the threat was persuasive enough on it's own.

"I'm sorry." The young woman continued firmly. "Laura isn't here. She was admitted to Desert Palm Hospital two days ago."

"What?" Morgan recoiled. "Why, what happened?"

"Alcohol poisoning." She shrugged, as if this sort of thing was an everyday occurrence in her daily work.  
As gloomy as that thought was, it probably wasn't far from the truth.

"We've been trying to get in touch with her daughter, but we're not having much luck." The nurse continued with a frown as she checked the pager attached to her belt.

"No, I'm not surprised." Greg mused sadly. "She's … she works with us. We can pass the message on."

"Okay." She shrugged, already moving down the hall to continue her rounds. "I'm sorry I can't be of more help."

Alone again in the bleak corridor, the CSIs shared a mildly shell-shocked look.

Jack was dead, Sara was in a coma and their mother had drunk herself into a stupor. This case was getting more complex by the second.

X x x

"She's in the hospital?" DB repeated.

"Yeah, this whole time we've been there with Sara, Laura's been right down the hall." Morgan breathed. "Who'd have thought it?"

"Well, so much for that line of enquiry." The boss sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"We can still question her." Greg pointed out. "Just … not yet."

"Yeah, but if she's been in the hospital since Wednesday, she might not even know anything." Nick huffed.

"Okay, let's talk about what we know and what we still need to know." DB flexed his hands, gesturing for someone to start.

"We know that Sara was in Jack's room for approximately an hour." Finn began. "And we know that there was some altercation, resulting in Sara getting shot."

"She left at approximately 1:30am, and presumably went straight home. After that, we can't say what happened." Nick released another discouraged groan.

"We still don't know whether Sara took the pills voluntarily or whether they were slipped to her." Greg added. "They were in her name, but the label could have been faked and without subpoenaing her medical records…"

"Yeah, let's stay away from that for the time being." DB held his hands up hurriedly. The last thing he wanted to do was pry unnecessarily into his colleague's private life … not until it was the only option left.

"Is it possible that Jack gave her the sleeping pills?" Finn theorised. "Maybe to make her more compliant, easier to assault?"

"I doubt it." Nick scrunched his face up. "Besides, how would he get them into her house?"

"We still don't even know what prompted Jack to attack Sara in the first place." Greg threw his hands out helplessly. "Without more evidence, we can't prove that he _did_ attack her."

"I might be able to help you there." Cath emitted a sad sigh as she strolled into the room. "I tracked down Jack's social services file."

"You did, or your friends in the FBI did?" Nick mocked teasingly. Sending him a dismissive glance, she placed the file down on the bench for everyone to read.

"They attached a note to his case file, forbidding him to be placed in a home with girls after he sexually assaulted his foster sister." She explained. "It also says that as a teenager he displayed disorganised or incoherent speech; he often became aggressive or confused and regularly claimed he was hearing voices."

"He was schizophrenic." Greg realised aloud.

"Just like Laura." Finn hummed, pursing her lips tightly.

"He was diagnosed two weeks before his eighteenth birthday." Catherine confirmed, snapping the manila folder shut. "But as soon as he turned eighteen …"

"He was kicked out of foster care and left to fend for himself." Russell summed up, shaking his head slowly in loss. "Alright, so where does all of this leave us?"

"It still doesn't help us find out who killed him. Or, who's targeting Sara." Nick scowled, his knuckles turning white where he gripped the tabletop.

"That's what we're trying to find out, bud." DB attempted to calm the agitated CSI. "But in order to do that we need to know why he and Sara were together in that room and exactly what happened between them." He paused, taking off his glasses. "For what it's worth, I don't believe for a second that Sara killed her brother."

"Then why are we still looking at her?"

"She was there, Nick." Catherine reminded him carefully. "The murder weapon was found in her home. And she attempted suicide a matter of hours later. You have to admit it doesn't look good."

"I don't give a fuck how it looks." The Texan snarled, slamming his hand on the table. "Sara didn't do this!"

"Yeah, that's what we're trying to prove, Nick." Finn cut in austerely. "And right now, your attitude is not helping."

"She's right, Nick." Greg joined in, taking a daring step into the older man's personal space. "You need to calm down."

"Oh, will you just get off my back!"

"Why don't you stop acting like a jerk?!"

"Hey!" Morgan shouted, slapping her hand repeatedly against the doorframe in frustration to get their attention. "When you're done arguing, I found something you guys need to see."

X x x

"I was reviewing the evidence from the hotel." She beckoned them all into the computer lab, gathering them in a semi-circle around the screen.

"What have you got, Morgan?" DB asked hopefully. The young blonde certainly seemed very excitable, and they could do with a catching a break in this case right about now.

"Okay, so I went back over the CCTV footage of Sara entering and leaving the hotel. Where she's leaving, you can see that she's holding her shoulder."

"You would be too if you'd just been shot." Greg quipped.

"Yeah, well bare with me." She tapped a few more keys, getting up a different image at a slightly better angle. "You see that?"

"She's got scratches." Catherine realised, noting the small injuries littering her friend's face. "That proves that Jack did attack her."

"I never noticed that at the hospital." Nick scowled.

"Well, they were probably covered by the injuries she sustained in the fall." DB drawled sadly, recalling the sight of Sara's grazed, bruised skin hidden beneath the breathing apparatus.

"That's not all." Morgan continued eagerly. "I got this image of her entering the hotel an hour earlier. Notice what's missing?"

They all scrutinised the two images with narrowed eyes.

"Apart from her weapon … nothing." Greg shrugged.

"Exactly." The woman smiled, producing an evidence bag with a small silver pendant inside. DB instantly recognised it as the one recovered from the scene. "I found this in the room. The chain is snapped, like it was ripped off."

"But in the CCTV image, Sara's wearing a different necklace." Finn caught on. "The one I collected with her possessions at the hospital."

"Where did this come from?" Greg demanded, snatching the bag out of Morgan's hand.

"I found it in the hotel room, behind the bed." She explained. In truth, she'd actually forgotten all about the little pendant until her father's pep talk encouraged her to go back and look at the evidence again. It hadn't seemed particularly relevant out of context.

"It's Sara's." He breathed. "I recognise it."

"Okay, so what does that mean?" Nick asked testily, not understanding the importance of this information. "Just because she wasn't wearing it, doesn't mean she didn't leave it there on another occasion."

"No, I know who put this there." Greg continued, his chocolate-brown eyes alive with excitement. "Ronald Baseric."

"Who's that?" Catherine frowned.

"You know the shooting at the diner a few months back?" Morgan inquired. "Basderic was our main suspect for a while."

"Yeah, you remember Edie, right?" Nick chimed in. Catherine cocked her head to the side, dredging up the face of the pretty red-haired waitress to memory.

"Yeah. Wasn't Sara helping her to get a restraining order against her stalker …"

"Basderic." Greg finished the thought for her. "Yeah. And Edie gave Sara this necklace as a thank you."

"That could be a coincidence." DB pointed out. "Sara could have had that necklace on her person somewhere, or she could have left it there on an earlier visit like Nick said."

"Come on, who else would go to such extreme lengths?" The youngest man insisted. "All the evidence we have points to someone setting Sara up."

"So, you think that Basderic planned all of this to, what? Get back at Sara?" Finn asked.

"He _was_ furious with her for accusing him of Edie's murder." Morgan added. "And we know he's got form for stalking. It's not that far of a stretch to think he would do this."

"Yeah, okay." Russell conceded somewhat reluctantly. "But how can we prove that?"

"Supposing Greg's right and Basderic is the one trying to set Sara up," Finn began, flicking her shoulder-length hair aside. "Let's talk about what that would take."

"If he were to make it look like Sara killed Jack, what would he have to do?" Catherine rephrased. "First, he'd have to know that Jack was going to be at the hotel."

"Well, that wouldn't be too hard." Nick mused. "Sara booked the tickets online a few weeks ago, all he'd have to do was hack into her email."

"But the room was in her name," Greg pointed out. "How would he know that Jack was going to be there?"

"Maybe he tapped her phone?" Catherine theorised. "Presumably there was some contact between them prior to last week."

"I haven't been through her paperwork yet." Nick said. "Maybe there was more correspondence between them."

"Good, find it." DB nodded at him.

"He would also need to know about the other guy – assuming that he took those photos." Catherine said. "And he'd have to get them into Sara's house without her knowing."

"Yeah, and to plant the knife." Finn jumped in.

"But why?" Greg asked rhetorically. "Why bother planting the knife when we know that Sara couldn't have set the dishwasher off herself."

They all considered the question for a moment. Slowly, Finn's lips spread into a tight smile.

"Because Basderic didn't know that." She spun herself around to lean against the computer table and face the gathered team. "He was too busy killing Jack and planting evidence at the hotel, he didn't know that Sara was at the lab."

"The sleeping pills." Catherine breathed. "If he drugged her, he would have expected her to be asleep for several hours."

"But she woke up, or sleepwalked, to the lab." Morgan added. "Maybe he didn't expect us to do a tox screen on her, so he thought the pills would go unnoticed."

"So, he waited until he thought she was out, snuck back in and planted the knife, the pills and the photos, knowing that we would be searching her home at some point." Finn finished. "He's been very smart."

"Yeah, not smart enough." Greg scoffed, unsettled by the description. Basderic was an fairly adept creep, but he wasn't going to evade them again. "So, where would he go now?"

"He's probably looking for Sara." Nick said. "If he's been keeping tabs on her, he must have realised by now that she's missing."

"Well, if he's good enough to pull all of this off, it wouldn't take him long to find out what's happened." Catherine hummed, concern flooding her features.

The team shared a look as the same thought occurred to them all at once.

If Basderic realised that his plan to set Sara up had failed, how far might he be willing to go to get revenge?

Nick was the first to speak again, his voice a dark mix of fear and anger at the idea that Sara could still be in danger.

"I'll call Brass."


	14. Distinctly I remember it

**For those wondering what's been up Nick's ass throughout this story, here's your answer :)**

**x x x x**

"Sara!" Nick hollered, bursting into the room and practically leaping towards the bed. "Sara, babe, I'm here." He breathed, gripping her hand. She hadn't moved since the last time he'd seen her; her scrapes and bruises still peering out from beneath her gown and the stark bandage around her head still garishly white against her fair skin.

"Is she alright?" Finn asked, sliding up beside him and resting a hand lightly on Sara's stomach as she leant around to see the patient better.

"Come on, honey," Nick whispered, ignoring Finn's question. "Wake up for me. Show me you're okay."

Morgan and Finn shared a sad look as Morgan crept around to the other side of the bed and stroked Sara's hair gently.

"She's okay." The young blonde sniffed, straightening up. "She's a fighter."

"I'm sorry?" A nurse cleared her throat, having completely missed the garbled words barked at her by the speeding CSI-team as they sprinted past the reception desk. "Can I help you?"

Brass broke away from the amassed group, producing a mug shot of Basderic and thrusting it at her face.

"Have you seen this man in here?"

She narrowed her eyes at the photo for barely a split second before offering an abrupt nod.

"Yes. He was here about an hour ago."

"He was in here?" Greg repeated. "With Sara?"

"Briefly." She nodded again. "What's all this about? Miss Sidle doesn't need this kind of excitement around her right now."

Brass stepped up close to the stern woman, raising one eyebrow in a mildly threatening gesture.

"Let me make this perfectly clear: nobody, other than the people you see in this room, is allowed anywhere near this girl unless I say so." He snarled. "I want security posted outside her room until further notice."

"What's going on?" The nurse demanded, folding her arms across her chest stubbornly. When she was faced with an obnoxious silence from the faction, she rolled her eyes in dramatic fashion. "I'll have to ask my supervisor."

"Good. You do that." DB replied brusquely, wandering around her to join the rest of the team by the bed.

As the disgruntled member of staff stropped back out, presumably to page her boss, the team fanned around Sara.

"She still appears to be in once piece, at least." Catherine mumbled. Mercifully, there didn't appear to be any further injuries on the fragile body before them. Not that that was much of a comfort really.

Nick had situated himself at the head of the bed and was stroking Sara's hair lightly, his face inches from hers. He sniffed, indignant rage flooding his features.

"If he's hurt her, I swear…"

"Nick." Jim cut the irate Texan off before he could start making any unbridled threats. "He won't hurt her. I won't let him hurt her."

X x x

"Hey," Morgan's softly enquiring voice infiltrated Greg's thoughts as she materialised at his side. "I was wondering where you'd disappeared to."

"I just needed to get out." He shrugged, running a hand through his unruly hair. "I'm not sure I can handle this."

"What?" She reached out to touch his arm in an act of comfort, but he moved quickly out of her grip. "Greg, talk to me." She pleaded gently.

The CSI swallowed hard, taking a long moment to organise his words before he dared trying to voice them.

"I can't handle seeing her like this." He stuttered at last. "Hooked up to wires and tubes, barely moving. It doesn't even feel like it's her in there."

"It is." She assured him. "I know things don't look good now, but Sara's still holding on for us. We have to stay strong for her, too."

"Yeah, I know." He sniffled, using his sleeve to dab at the seemingly endless flood of crystal tears streaking down his face. She shifted uncomfortably, not sure whether to extend the offer of a hug, or to leave him to calm down on his own.

She settled for attempting to change the subject, hoping it might divert his troubled thoughts elsewhere.

"Jim's still trying to organise some security. He's threatening to have the whole hospital put under police guard unless they co-operate." She emitted a soft laugh.

"Yeah." Greg murmured, barely listening as he continued to wipe ineffectually at his eyes. "I … I'm sorry, I need some air."

"Greg, wait…" Morgan stretched out a hand after him, but her fingertips merely grazed the back of his jacket. She dropped her shoulders with dismay as the distraught young man strode away from her with his head hung.

"He'll be alright." A soothing voice reassured her gently from somewhere behind. She turned her head, relieved to discover that DB had been watching the encounter from across the reception area.

"You think so?"

"Yeah, just give him a minute." He patted her shoulder comfortingly. "Hey, good catch on that necklace. You might have just broken the case."

She smiled gratefully, well aware that he was only trying to cheer her up but glad of the effort anyway.

"Yeah." She breathed sceptically, watching the lanky supervisor disappeaing in the direction of Sara's room before turning back to the empty space where Greg had been stood. "I hope so."

X x x

"You know what I don't get?" Finn asked rhetorically, breaking the contemplative mood that had befallen the remainder of the team. "Why stab Jack seven times? I mean, no one here knew about Sara's father and he couldn't possibly have known that we would look into that."

"Sara would have known." Cath corrected. "He was trying to make a point, tell her that he knows about her past."

"He's not the only one." Nick muttered, casting a furtive glance across the bed at the strawberry-blonde.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She snapped defensively, her blue eyes widening at his insolence.

"Come on, you telling me that didn't know about any of that?" He challenged sceptically, propping his elbows up on the hard mattress.

"No, of course not." She scowled. "Obviously, I suspected that there was a history of abuse somewhere down the line, because of Sara's behaviour on certain cases; but this…"

"Come on Catherine, don't lie to me." He scoffed. "You knew that Sara was in foster care. Are you trying to tell me that you never questioned it?"

"No, I didn't."

He pulled a disbelieving face, shaking his head in disgust at her secret-keeping.

"Look," Cath held her hands up, stepping around the foot of the bed. "It was right after she was taken by Natalie. I was at the hospital with her; I asked if she wanted me to call anyone from her family." She paused, considering her next words carefully. "She'd been through a terrible ordeal; you know that better than anyone. She told me a few small details about her childhood _in confidence_. I was hardly going to start demanding war and peace from her, was I?"

"Yeah, right." He huffed, pushing himself away from the bed and brushing past her towards the door.

"Nick!" She called out exasperatedly. "Nicky, wait!"

Jogging after him, she narrowly avoided colliding with DB as he ambled back into the room.

"Hey, whoa … okay." The boss pressed his back against the doorframe as the pair of them tore past him without even bothering to slow down. He flicked his gaze across the room, to where Finn was still sitting beside Sara in stunned silence. "Wha… what did I miss?" He pointed vaguely in the direction of his departing colleagues, a trademark frown dancing across his face.

"Oh, just Nick being … well, Nick." She shrugged tiredly, rubbing circles on the back of Sara's hand with the pad of her thumb. "Hey, who's Natalie?"

"Who?" Russell joined her by the bed and perched on the edge of the mattress.

"Catherine said something about Sara being 'taken' by someone called Natalie."

"Natalie Davis." He explained with a weak nod. "She was a serial killer – you remember reading about the 'Miniature Killer' right?"

"Oh yeah, killed people and left miniature models of the crime scene behind." She paused, dredging the newspaper articles up to memory. "So, Sara was the officer who was kidnapped and put under a car in the desert?"

"That's right." He nodded, pursing his lips tightly. "According to Catherine, she got out on her own and then spent the next day walking across the desert in a daze, trying to find her way back to the road. Nick was actually the one who found her."

"Wow." The blonde woman whistled, scanning Sara's serene face. "She's a proper little survivor, huh?"

"Yeah." DB chuckled affectionately, patting the dozing patient's hip. "Yeah, she certainly is that."

X x x

"Hey Nick!" Catherine hollered down the cavernous hallway. "Stop!"

He did, but despite the distance between them she could see his hands clenching into fists at his side.

With a deep breath, she stalked after him, coming to a halt directly behind his tensing shoulders.

"Alright, what the hell is wrong with you? Greg told me that before Sara jumped, you and she got into an argument and you quit!"

"Yeah, I did." He agreed calmly, turning to face her. "And as I recall so did you, _and_ Sara."

"We had our reasons." She blinked, taken aback by the sudden change in topic.

"Oh, so it's okay for you two to quit, but when I do it I get hell for it."

"That's not what this is about and you know it." She warned in a low voice. "When Sara left last time it was because of what had happened to her. She couldn't carry on at the lab the way she was, and she knew that – she left to get her head together. She didn't throw a tantrum and storm out of CSI. She didn't get wrecked on cheap booze and get herself arrested."

"Oh, enough already." He threw his hands out, but she wasn't quite done with him yet.

"You've been acting up ever since that day. Now, I know that you are just as worried about her as the rest of us, but your behaviour is not helping matters."

"Yeah, well maybe I have my reasons too." He spat, making to leave again.

"Nicky Stokes, don't you walk away from me."

"I don't have to answer to you anymore." He hollered over his shoulder, a cocky swagger in his hips.

"Oh, is that what you think? That you can just walk out on us?" She confronted him angrily, catching him by the arm and swinging him around. "Let me tell you something, Nick; Sara and I may have left the lab, but we didn't leave the family." She dragged him forcefully to the observation window despite his attempts to resist. "Look at her Nick, look at what she's done to herself. You don't get to walk out on this."

"I have no intention of walking out on Sara…"

"Good." She roughly relinquished her hold on him, crossing her arms sternly. "Then sit your butt down and tell me what's really going on?"

To her surprise, he actually complied with the request; although the force with which he sat down caused the plastic chair to shoot backwards and marr the fading paint flaking off the wall.

With a relieved sigh, she sank down beside him and waited patiently for him to start talking.

"You remember how, before Warrick died, he was slipping away from us." He mused, absently toying with the silver ring adorning his right ring finger. "Drugs, drink, turning up to work late..."

"Yeah, I remember." She agreed quietly.

"Well, I saw what was happening to him … and I did nothing."

"That's not true, Nicky." She gripped his wrist tightly. "You tried to help him, we all did, but he wouldn't let us."

"I should have done more." He insisted, wrenching his arm free. "And after he died, I made a promise to him that I would keep the team together. But I didn't."

"Nick,"

"No!" He shook her off, standing up and beginning to pace in front of the line of chairs. "I swore I would look after the team. That I would never let anyone break down like he had. And look what's happened – we lost Grissom, then Riley. Ray – he nearly got himself killed because I didn't have his back!" He ran a hand over his short hair. "Then you left and now … now…" He gestured meekly to the next room, unable to hold back his tears any longer.

"Answer me this." She said calmly, crossing her legs. "Would Warrick walk away if he could see Sara now?"

"Don't Cath." He hissed, barely holding it together. "Don't do this to me."

"Why not? Does it make you feel ashamed? Because I know Warrick would be." She snapped unsympathetically. "Do you really think the way you've been acting is going to help her now?"

"I don't know, Catherine!" He barked, his previous anger rearing its ugly head again as he threw his hands out to the side in utter helplessness. "I didn't know how to help her last time she ended up in here and I don't know how to help her now!"

Cath stood up and joined him where he'd come to a stop in front of the window again.

"I just, I feel so guilty." He sniffled tearfully. "I don't know what to do right now and that scares me more than you know."

"Hey, it's okay." She gripped his sleeve and pulled him back down into the seats, taking him in her arms. "Listen to me Stokes." She mumbled, feeling his strong muscles quivering beneath her touch. "What happened to Sara is not your fault. No one could have known that this was going to happen."

"You don't know that." He sobbed, writhing out of her grip. "If I hadn't picked a fight with her, if I hadn't said some of those things, she might not have…"

"Don't even think that." She cut him off. "Look, if this guy – Basderic – if he's been stalking her since the shooting at the diner then he's been planning this for months. There's no way you could have known what he was going to do."

"I know." He shrugged meekly. "It just feels like I should have been paying more attention, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." She agreed. "You promised Warrick that you would look out for the team, right?"

"Yeah, but … I'm scared Cath. I'm so scared that we're going to lose her, I can't think of anything else right now." He looked up, tears streaming down his weathered face. "I don't think I can survive burying another friend."

"We're not going to." Catherine said bluntly. "Because Sara is going to wake up. In the meantime, you need to pull yourself together and start acting like the friend she needs."

"I don't know how." He squeaked.

"You sort yourself out, stop dwelling on your own guilt and start concentrating on the case." She instructed calmly. "When Natalie put her under that car, Sara had to get herself out because we were too late to help her. Don't make the same mistake again."


	15. Saintly days of yore

"Alright, Jim's got people out looking for Basderic as we speak." DB began, flexing his hands. "He's still trying to organise a system of security, just in case he comes back here."

"I don't see why he would." Catherine released a breath, instinctively casting furtive glances around them. "If he was going to do something to her I think he would have done it when he had the chance."

"Well, let's hope so." Russell drawled, scanning the faces of his team as they gathered in a quiet corner of the reception area. "Where's Nick?"

"I think he's with Sara." Cath pursed her lips, nodding slowly. "I'd leave him be for a while."

"Okay, good idea." DB hummed in agreement. "Let's hope he calms down a little." He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it stuck out in all directions until he closely resembled a porcupine with bad morning hair. "Okay, so … Morgan."

The young blonde straightened up, eager for a task to occupy her spinning mind.

"Yeah?"

"Go back to the lab; let's see if we can link Basderic to any of the other evidence in the case. Start with the photos from Sara's house."

"I'll go back to the house and fingerprint her jewellery box." Finn offered swiftly. "Presumably that's where he got the necklace from, maybe we'll get lucky."

"Good idea." DB nodded. "While you're there, see if you can work out how he was getting in and out of her house without her knowing."

"Will do." The women broke off, weaving their way through the crowded reception towards the main doors.

"What about me?" Greg asked, having finally composed himself after his mini-meltdown earlier.

"You're coming with me." Catherine piped up, raising her eyebrows at him. "We're going to track down Sara's mother."

X x x

"Cath." Greg nodded at the sign outside the door. "Think I found her."

Unexpectedly, Laura Sidle had a room all to herself.

Catherine peered around the door before slipping inside, followed closely by a more cautious Greg.

The woman didn't stir at their entrance. Thick dark hair splayed across the pillow, framing her peaceful face. One hand was hanging off the edge of the bed, while the other gripped the blankets to her chest, almost protectively. It was difficult to pinpoint her age, but the deep-set lines on her once-beautiful face belayed the difficult life she had lived.

Creeping up to the bed, Catherine picked up her wrist and set it back on the mattress carefully.

"She looks a little like Sara." Greg cocked his head to the side, analysing the features. "Sort of."

Catherine reached over to the bedside table, picking up a picture frame. In it, a dark-haired little girl was curled into an armchair with a book, a concentrated frown etched into her tiny face.

"Yeah." She murmured quietly in agreement, returning the photo to its home.

The action, however, roused the patient and familiar dark eyes blinked up at them in surprise.

"Oh," she squeaked, casting an unsure glance between her two visitors. "Who… who are you?"  
Her voice remained sleep-laden and thick with confusion; she appeared disorientated, like she wasn't entirely sure where she was.

"Ms Sidle?" Cath greeted uncertainly, offering what was intended as a comforting smile. "Hi, my name's Catherine Willows, this is Greg Sanders. We're with-" She paused, rethinking her next words. Given this woman's criminal history, it might not be in their best interest to divulge that they were with the police. "We're friends of your daughter." She settled on at last.

It seemed to have the desired outcome, as Laura's suspicious glowers melted away in place of a hopeful smile.

"Sara?" She breathed, automatically searching the room for her elusive child. "Is she here?"

The CSIs shared a look, not sure how to answer that without causing any further distress to the already delicate woman, who continued to stare up at Catherine with pleading eyes.

"Uh, Ms Sidle…"

"Laura, please." She smiled softly. It was a world-weary smile, but not an unpleasant one. "Where's Sara, is she coming to see me?"

"Laura, I'm afraid we have some bad news." Catherine explained as tactfully as she could, claiming the seat beside the bed. "Sara's in intensive care. She … she had a bad fall."

The words seemed to take an age to register, to the point where Greg was beginning to wonder whether the woman had even heard them.

"A … what?" She blinked at last, tears springing to her wide hazel eyes. "Is she alright?"

"The doctors are doing everything they can for her." He chipped in, inching closer and leaning tentatively against the rail at the end of the bed. "I'm sure she's going to be fine."

"This is because of what happened to that man." Laura mumbled, shaking her head. "Because of what Sara did."

The criminalists exchanged a startled look across the room, their mouths opening and closing in shocked unison.

"What do you mean?" Cath inquired, attempting to disguise the panic in her voice. "What did Sara do?"

"The man at the hotel." Laura gesticulated wildly with her hand, a frustrated frown embedding itself in her forehead. "She killed him. She stabbed him … just like I stabbed her father." She threw her head back into the pillow, her voice cracking with every word. "I did everything I could; I didn't want her to turn out like me."

"Laura, who told you about Sara?" Catherine interrupted, gripping her flailing arm tightly between both hands.

"Her friend." She hummed. "Ronald. Very nice, so sweet."

"Basderic." Greg snarled, barely resisting the urge to lash out at something as he pushed himself away from the bed.

"Oh God." Catherine recoiled, inhaling sharply. "Laura, when did this man come to see you?"

"I … I don't know." She whispered dazedly. "I want to see Sara. I need to see her…"

"You will, soon." Cath assured her. "Don't worry; she's in good hands right now."

"What's going to happen to her?" The woman cried softly, confusion and sadness battling for supremacy in her expressive eyes.

"Nothing." Greg shook his head firmly. "Nothing's going to happen to her."

"Laura, I promise, Sara's not in any trouble." Catherine added, her voice taking on a warm, compassionate tone that didn't quite match her anxious demeanour. "She didn't hurt anyone; but someone might be trying to hurt her."

"Yeah, and we need your help to stop him." Greg added. "What can you tell us about the man that came to see you?"

Laura, however, appeared to have disengaged completely from the conversation.

"I want to see Sara." She repeated, her voice hoarse and echoic. "I want to see my little girl."

Catherine met Greg's gaze, her own helplessness mirrored on his exhausted face.

X x x

"What have you got for me, Archie?" Morgan asked hopefully, sailing into the dimly lit AV lab.

"Nothing much from the photos, I'm afraid." He shrugged. "Nothing appears to have been edited or manipulated within them. As far as I can tell, they're legit."

"Okay." She breathed, undeterred. "What about Sara's cell phone?"

"That was more promising." He smiled, his skilled fingers flying over the keys until a box popped up on the screen. "I backdated her call history a few weeks, since we don't know when the photos were taken. There's nothing much, but there were a handful of calls to a disposable cell phone in the last few days. I cross-referenced it against the cell phone _you_ got from Jack's hotel room – it's a match."

"Okay, so big brother gets a cheap cell phone, gets in touch with his sister and heads down to Vegas." Morgan theorised. "Any text messages or emails? Anything that might suggest why he was coming to town?"

"Not that I've found." He shrugged. "I still need to check her laptop, I'll let you know if I get anything."

"Alright, thanks Arch." She patted him on the shoulder, making to leave.

"Hey," he called her back. "You haven't heard the best part yet."

She ambled back towards him, her curiosity peaked.

"She also had two incoming calls two weeks ago from a cell phone registered to a Taylor Wynard." He clicked the name on screen, bringing up a driver's licence photo."

"That's our guy!" Morgan exclaimed. "From the photo! That's who Sara's with in the images."

"You're welcome." Archie hummed, leaning back in his chair with a cocky grin.

She was halfway out of the door when she came to a halt, spinning around to face him again.

"Hey, are there any recent calls from Grissom?"

"No." Archie sobered up, a hint of darkness flashing across his face. "No, in fact there's been no calls or texts between them for over two weeks."

"Huh." She sighed, shaking her head in loss. "Maybe she gave up trying to reach him, too."

X x x

The room was eerily quiet, but for the beeping of the machines and Sara's slow, steady breathing.

Nick crept quietly to the bed and slid into the chair, taking a minute to just scrutinise her features.

He could still remember the first time he saw her all those years ago. Catherine had already warned him that she was tenacious.

Trouble. That's the word she had used. And she was right.

But she was also beautiful, and smart. She had a great sense of humour; that was probably the first thing he really noticed. That and her bright smile.

He only realised now, but he hadn't seen that smile in a long time. Too long.

Carefully, he picked up her hand and pressed it to his lips.

"Sara, babe." He mumbled, tears springing to his eyes as he stroked her hair affectionately with his free hand. "What have you done?"

Her silent response only spurred on his sobs, which began to choke their way out of his dry throat.

"I'm sorry." He sniffed. "Now, I know that you didn't mean to scare us like this, but you did. And we'll talk about that when you're awake. But … I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I let you down."

He paused, absently threading a loose strand of Sara's silky hair through his fingers.

"You know, it's almost ironic. Warrick got shot because I stayed behind to flirt with Edie. And now, you've nearly been killed because you tried to help her. I don't know if that means anything, but…" he trailed off with a small shrug. "I don't know." He settled on at last, shaking his head.

"I guess I've been feeling guilty ever since Warrick died. He was my partner and I wasn't there when he needed me to be. I should have been by his side." He paused, his voice beginning to quiver as he whispered the next words. "I should have been by your side. I'm sorry – I was so wrapped up in my own issues, I never even noticed what you were going through."

Dragging the chair closer to the bed, wincing as the legs squeaked across the tiled floor, he folded his arms on the mattress and rested his head on them so that his lips were mere inches from Sara's face.

"I haven't been a very good friend lately. And I've been an even worse friend since you ended up in here. I guess I lost perspective. But I'm going to fix it. I promise."

He leant forward, pressing a firm kiss to her cheek. As he did, the first tear finally broke through his barriers and trickled onto her skin.

"I'm sorry." He repeated, his whole body shaking as a fresh wave of sobs wracked his strong frame. "I promise, I'm not going to let him hurt you again."

Releasing her for a moment, he slipped the silver skull ring off his finger and folded it protectively into her hand.

"And don't worry, because while we're out there looking for him, Warrick's going to be right here with you. He's going to look after you."

The Texan tipped his head to the ceiling, taking several deep breaths as he attempted to compose himself.

Behind him, lurking quietly by the door, a sad smile crept across Catherine's lips as she whispered the same familiar prayer that was flashing through Nick's head.

_Friend and brother,  
may we know you more clearly,  
love you more dearly,  
and follow you more nearly,  
day by day  
Amen_


	16. Nothing further than he

**Extra long chapter, but it needed to be to move the story along. **

**Hope you enjoy :)**

**x x x x**

"Hey sweetheart." DB groaned into the phone as he sank heavily into the faux-leather chair behind his desk.

"_Hey, how's Sara?"_ Barbara asked, her voice full of concern. She had only met the woman in question briefly, when Katie had been taken, but she'd taken an instant liking to her. Sara had been kind and understanding in their time of desperation, while still managing to maintain a professional attitude.  
It didn't hurt that she was vegetarian, either.

"She's hanging in there." DB decided after a few seconds deliberation. "How are things at home?"

"_Everything's fine."_ She assured him. _"Charlie's come back for a few days."_

"Good. That's good." He nodded, glad that his wife wasn't alone in the house. "I'll try to get back soon, things are just …"

"_I know."_ She cut him off. _"You just do what you have to do. We'll be alright without you for a few days."_

"Thank you." Russell paused, and she could practically see him taking off his glasses and pressing his fingers against his eyes tiredly. "I miss you." He murmured softly at last.

"_I know. We miss you too."_ She hummed. _"Give my love to Sara."_

"Yeah, I will. I love you."

Hanging up, he stared at the phone for a long minute. He hadn't seen his wife in two days and it was already killing him. He couldn't understand how Sara coped with not seeing her husband for weeks on end.

Then again, he recognized sorrowfully, maybe that was the ultimate cause of this whole mess.  
Because she _wasn't_ coping.

X x x

"Mandy."

The lab tech jumped as the familiar voice travelled into her lab. She turned in time to see Catherine stride inside and dump an evidence bag full of photographs onto the table.

Since Catherine didn't actually work here anymore, she didn't even need to ask which case this was for. She dropped what she was doing and instantly moved over to sign the evidence in.

"I want you to get every available print off these." Cath instructed. "Use everything: DFO, Nin, fluorescence, superglue, wet powder…"

"Yep, it's my only case." Mandy agreed without hesitation before she could bark any more chemicals at her.

"Photograph everything, record every mark." Catherine continued as if she hadn't spoken. "Let me know as soon as you get something."

The tech picked up the stack of images and narrowed her eyes at them through the plastic bag. The top one was a photo of Sara in the arms of an attractive young man, taken in a parking lot somewhere. Ordinarily, she would have had a droll observation on the tip of her sharp tongue, but under the circumstances it didn't seem right to comment.

"Finn's on her way back with some prints from Sara's house as well." Catherine added, offering a brief nod as she turned to leave.

"Catherine," Mandy called after her, dropping the photos back on to the bench. "How is Sara?"

"Not good." The ex-CSI declared bluntly from the door, flicking her long hair over her shoulder in visible frustration. "The doctors don't seem to want to tell us anything new. Just that she's stable and may or may not wake up anytime."

"Maybe they just don't want to give anyone false hope." The brunette murmured with a meek shrug. "How's Nick handling it?"

This time, Cath's face brightened a little.

"I think he's going to be okay." She nodded carefully, recalling the scene at the hospital. "He's just shaken." She gestured to the evidence pointedly, effectively ending the question-answer session. "As soon as you get anything, I want to know."

"No problem." Mandy nodded, watching her go with a sad frown.

She had always got on well with Sara. The Californian had a good sense of humour and didn't take offence at her witty remarks. And, with the exception of a few delicate cases, she always seemed unflappable.

Mandy certainly never saw this coming.

Picking up the photos again, she exhaled and floated swiftly over to her Superfuming cabinet.

X x x

"Hey, you get anything off the pills taken from Sara's house?" Morgan asked, hovering hopefully over Hodges' shoulder. He stood up abruptly, nearly knocking her over in the process, and sauntered across to the computer.

"You have no idea what I got." He tapped a few keys and brought up the results on screen. "First off, the substance inside them _is_ zolpidem. But, they had been tampered with."

"Tampered with how?" She frowned, joining him at the desk. He pulled a face, debating how to phrase it.

"Supersized, if you will. They contained twenty-times the prescribed dose."

"Twenty-times?" Morgan stuttered, narrowing her eyes at the screen to see for herself. "Would that account for the amount in her system at the time Finn collected her blood?"

"Absolutely." He nodded sombrely. "It would also suggest that she took the pills herself, they weren't slipped to her."

"Okay, run this with me." The blonde pursed her lips. "So, Sara was at the hotel with her brother. He attacks her, rapes her and shoots her when she tries to escape."

"She manages to get out, leaving her gun behind." Hodges continued. "She gets home, dresses the wound and pops a sleeping pill."

"Meanwhile, Basderic has gone to Jack's room, stabbed him to death and planted the necklace behind the bed."

"Sara wakes up, still dazed from the drugs, and finds her way to the lab where she jumps – or falls – off the roof."

"Still," A troubled look crossed Morgan's face. "It doesn't explain how Basderic got into Jack's room. Or when he planted the knife in Sara's home."

"Well, we know the who and the why." Hodges breathed, resting his hands on the bench. "That's a start."

"Yeah." Morgan nodded slowly, meeting his hopeful gaze. "Now we just have to prove it."

X x x

"So, Sara thought she was taking a five milligram pill but she was actually taking a 100 milligram pill?" Nick frowned. "Basderic was taking a pretty big risk there, don't you think? He could have killed her."

"Actually, zolpidem isn't necessarily lethal at those levels." Greg chipped in. "At 400-600 milligrams, you're talking permanent damage; but it would take 2000 milligrams to be fatal."

"Still, why would he need to knock her out that much?" Finn inquired. "He must have had a reason for it; otherwise it wouldn't be worth the risk."

"Well, our work patterns aren't exactly regular. Maybe he was waiting until he knew she was at home and then he was getting into the house." Nick conjectured. "If he knew she was going to be knocked out, there would be less risk of getting caught."

"So, he's been watching her while she's asleep?" Morgan recoiled, scrunching her face up in disgust. "That's so twisted."

"Yeah, and that's why we have to catch him before he can get to her again." DB jumped in. "So, he makes sure she's knocked out and he breaks in – do we know how?"

"Yes, we do." Finn smiled, producing a series of photographs. "I checked her lock; I think he's been using a 'bump key' to gain access. There were visible marks inside the locking chamber."

"That would explain why her door was so stiff." Nick scowled. "When I tried to get in, it took ages to get the key to turn. I didn't think anything of it at the time."

"Exactly." Finn nodded. "Sara probably didn't either."

"So, we know how he's getting in and out of Sara's house. What about Jack's room?"

"I'm about to go back and check now." Greg held up his notes. "I'll let you know if I find anything."

"Good. Morgan, you can go with him." Russell nodded. "Brass is currently trying to track down this guy – Taylor Wynard. Hopefully he'll be able to clear some of this up for us."

"Hey, does Laura know about Jack yet?" Finn asked before everyone could disperse.

"No, all Basderic told her was that Sara had killed a man." Cath answered. The words sounded wrong on her lips.

"Is it possible that Basderic doesn't know?" Morgan posited. "I mean, he knew that Sara had booked a hotel room in her name, but the hotel staff say they only ever saw Jack coming and going."

"Right, maybe Basderic was watching as well." Catherine added. "His first assumption probably wouldn't be that they were related."

"Ours certainly wasn't." Greg agreed guiltily.

"Okay, that's good." DB hummed, tapping his chin deep in thought. "That's something we know that he doesn't."

"Yeah, but how are we supposed to tell Laura?" Catherine sighed, throwing her hands out. "The woman's unstable enough right now, she nearly had a breakdown when we told her that her daughter is in a coma."

"Yeah, now might not be the best time to tell her that her son's dead." Nick realised where she was going with it. "And you know, at some point we're going to have to tell Sara too."

"Well, we'll worry about that when we have to." Cath took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Right now, maybe we should go back and see what Laura remembers about her visitor."

"Good idea." Russell agreed. "You do that. Finn and I will look over the hotel CCTV footage and see if we can spot Basderic lurking in the shadows anywhere."

X x x

This time when Catherine crept inside, Laura was wide awake and appeared to have shed her earlier confusion.

"Miss Willows." She greeted with a smile, eyeing up the man behind her with unbridled curiosity.

"Hi Laura." Cath grinned. "This is Nick; he's a friend of Sara's too."

"Hi." He nodded uneasily, casting a glance around the small room. From the few details he knew of this woman, he didn't really know what to expect of her.

"They said I can see Sara today." She explained her alertness. "The nurse is going to take me this afternoon."

"That's great." Cath beamed, sliding into the seat beside her and accepting the outstretched hand. "I'm sure that'll help her."

Nick spotted the photo beside the bed, the same one Cath had been examining yesterday, and a small smile twitched at his lips.

"Is that Sara?"

Laura picked it up and stroked it gently with her fingertip before handing the frame to him.

"She was six when that was taken." She explained fondly. "I asked the nurse to bring it from the care home. I like waking up next to it."

"I know what you mean." Catherine hummed in understanding. "I have a photo of my daughter beside the bed, too."

"You have children?" Laura queried with sudden intrigue.

"Just the one." She nodded. "Although she's not really a child anymore."

"No." Laura mused, her voice taking on a slightly remorseful tone. "Neither are mine."

Nick and Catherine exchanged a look, seeing where this was going, and Nick swiftly changed the subject.

"Ms Sidle, we need to ask you some questions about the man who came to see you."

"Laura, please." She insisted, ignoring the request.

"Laura." Nick nodded, perching on the bottom of the bed and producing a photograph from his folder. "Is this the man who told you about Sara?"

"Yes, that's him." She nodded, taking the picture from him and scrutinising it closely. "He was very nice. He sat with me for a while."

"What did you talk about?" Catherine enquired calmly.

"Sara." She smiled. "He was very interested in her family, her childhood."

"Did you talk about Jack?" Nick asked carefully, hoping that she wouldn't pick up on the obvious anxiety in his voice. They had agreed not to say anything to her yet, but there were certain things they still needed to find out one way or another.

"No, no we …" she paused, shaking her head slowly. "I haven't seen my son for a long time."

"Laura, this man has tried to hurt Sara." Catherine said delicately, getting them back on track before they could veer further into dangerous territory. "What exactly did he tell you about himself, about why he was here?"

"He … he said that he was a friend of Sara's and that she was in a lot of trouble. He said that she stabbed a man to death in a hotel." Laura frowned, staring intently at the photo in her trembling hands. "He said that Sara asked him to come and tell me. She … she didn't?"

"No." Cath shook her head sadly. "Sara's been unconscious for three days. She hasn't told him anything."

"Yeah, and she hasn't killed anybody." Nick added firmly.

"Why … why would he do that to her?" Laura squeaked in confusion.

"That's what we're trying to find out." Nick assured her. "Don't worry. We're going to find him. He's not going to hurt Sara anymore."

"I never did know how to help her." The woman mumbled morosely, picking up the photo frame from where it lay in Nick's lap and studying it intently, even though she probably knew every inch of it from memory.

The Texan placed a hand on her arm, squeezing it gently.

"You have helped her."

She looked up, a weepy smile creeping across her worn face as she held the photo up.

"She's beautiful isn't she?"

"Yeah." Nick beamed, meeting Catherine's gaze. She was matching his expression, her blue eyes shining with unshed tears. "Yeah, she is."

X x x

"Dammit." Greg breathed. "He probably never even saw it coming."

"Basderic used an override key to access the room." Morgan echoed his realisation as they stared at the room's login information. "Grabbed the knife off the room-service tray and stabbed him. Probably surprised him getting ready for bed, which is why we found him in his underwear."

"The override was used at 1:45am." Greg tipped his head to the side as he considered this. "That fits with time of death being between 1 and 3am."

"And with Sara leaving the hotel at 1:30." Morgan added. "So, all we have to do is put the override key in Basderic's hands and we've got him."

"Yeah," Greg raised an eyebrow at her. "But we need to find him first."

X x x

Dragging a hand through her hair, Catherine made her way through the familiar halls. So many times she had walked this familiar path; she never thought she would actually miss it.

Nick had decided to accompany Laura on her visit to see Sara, so Catherine had headed back on her own after briefly checking in on the patient herself.

For one spine-tingling moment she'd thought Sara was waking up, but then the subtle movements had stopped and Cath's heart sank again.

Shaking away the memory, she instinctively threw a glance into DB's office on her way past and promptly skidded to a halt.

Even from behind, she would recognise that silhouetted figure anywhere.

Creeping inside, she watched him for a moment. He seemed lost in a world of his own, slowly surveying his old habitat.

"Gil?"

His broad shoulders twitched at the sound of his own name. He spun around, one eyebrow quirked and a small smile dancing on his lips at the sight of his old friend.

Slowly, she stepped up to him until they were inches apart, her piercing eyes searching his own. Suddenly, with unflinching swiftness, her hand shot out and collided with his face.

He blinked at her in stunned silence for a few seconds as a red mark began to form on his cheek. Her expression remained impossible to read, but her chest was heaving with anger.

"Where the hell have you been?" Her low voice only served to prove how pissed off she truly was. "We've been trying to get in touch with you for days!"

"I know." He cleared his throat, his face still burning where she had slapped him. "As soon as I got your messages, I got the first flight out."

"You didn't think to pick up the phone first?" She snapped. "Call us; let us know that you were coming?"

If he was honest, the thought never even crossed his mind. Electing to ignore the question, he straightened up and got to the reason he'd come back.

"How's Sara?"

X x x

She could hear voices, but they were muted and distant. It was like she was listening to them from under water.

She could feel an obstruction in her throat, but oddly it didn't appear to be restricting her breathing.

Her eyes were heavy as lead and any attempt to open them failed miserably. Still, she could see a light over her somewhere, hot on her face. It was almost reminiscent of her countless hours spent in the desert after she escaped from under the car – hot, dry and filled with nothing but agonising pain.

She could feel something small and rough in her hand and tightened her grip on it. It felt familiar somehow, although she couldn't quite work out what it was. Either way, holding it made her feel safe. Protected.

Somewhere to her right, she sensed sudden movement and a warm hand was placed over her own.

Someone was calling her name.


	17. If bird or devil

"She's in a fucking coma, Gil!" Cath scoffed, waving a threatening finger in his face. "Which you would know if you'd been here!"

"I know, I'm sorry." He held up his hands defensively, attempting to step away and backing himself against the desk in the process. "I've been … busy."

"You've been busy?" She repeated in a low, hostile voice. "She's your wife, Gil! How busy can you be to not call her in _two weeks_?"

"Catherine…" he took a deep breath, but she cut him off before he could explain himself. Even if she had let him speak, she was too riled to listen to reason right now anyway.

"She spent ten years waiting for you to make up your mind. Now, you're finally married; she shouldn't be having a relationship with your answering machine!"

"Catherine, you don't understand…"

"I don't know what's going on between you two, and quite frankly I don't care." She barked, shaking her long hair out with a stubborn scowl. "Because Sara's hanging on by a thread; and right now she's all I care about."

Spinning on her heel, she made to leave again but his next words brought her to an abrupt stop.

"Sara and I broke up."

She turned slowly on the spot, her eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"You … what?"

"Sara and I; we're not married anymore. At least, we won't be for much longer."

"You split up?" She repeated, softening her voice in confusion. "Why, wha… what happened?"

He offered an awkward shrug, stumbling over his words as he attempted to answer the question. There were so many potential responses; he didn't even know where to begin.

However, the ringing of Catherine's phone gave him a brief reprieve. Sending him a look that clearly said their conversation wasn't over; she unclipped it from her belt and glanced at the screen.

"Hey Nicky." She sighed into the speaker, dragging a hand through her hair. "She what?"

Grissom studied her changing expression, unable to tell whether it was for better or worse at this point.

"Okay, I'll be right there. Don't go anywhere." She paused, holding Gil's gaze with an unwavering stare. "No, you haven't missed anything here."

The man winced at her cold answer to the Texan's question, but he quickly brushed it aside as she hung up the phone.

"Well?" He queried hopefully. She looked up, one eyebrow quirking in that telltale manner that meant he was still in trouble.

"Your wife's waking up."

X x x

Cath slipped inside, her eyes instantly seeking out the bed.

Morgan and Greg had already beaten her here and were gathered around the patient, staring intently at her face; as if the conjoined force of their hope might be enough to pull her out of her deep slumber.

"Well?" She asked, coming fully into the room.

"They've removed the ventilator." Nick cleared his throat, straightening up. "She didn't come around fully, but she was definitely starting to."

"Did she say anything?"

The hoarse voice startled the rest of the team, who turned in unison to the door.

His hair was a little greyer, and his beard was back, but it was undeniably him.

"Oh, thank God." Nick greeted, clearing the small room in two strides and ambushing his old boss into a hug. "I've been trying to get hold of you."

"I know." Gil cleared his throat, shuffling awkwardly out of the embrace. "I got your messages."

"Where have you been?" Greg asked, managing to control his relief at the sight of the entomologist a little better than Nick.

"Yeah Gil, where _have_ you been?" Catherine asked bluntly, brushing past him on her way to the bed. Paradoxically to her current unsympathetic demeanour, she began tenderly brushing Sara's hair aside. Without the ventilator, it was easier to see the scrapes and marks adorning her face.

Morgan flicked her eyes between the CSIs curiously. She didn't need to ask who the man was; although she had to admit that the dishevelled middle-aged guy before her was not exactly how she would have pictured Sara's husband.

She had met Gil Grissom before, when her parents were still married, but she didn't really remember it. She could vaguely recall a strange man who kept butterflies in jars and had offered her a chocolate-covered cricket.

Needless to say, at six years old she hadn't really taken to him.

He cleared his throat, stepping up to the bed to see the damage for himself.

Underneath the deep bruises she remained very pale and still.

"Sara." He sighed, shaking his head slowly. "What happened?"

"We're still working on that." Greg answered, although he suspected the question was rhetorical. "We know that someone tampered with her sleeping pills, but we don't know if that's what led her to the roof."

"Sleeping pills?" He repeated, turning to the younger man. "Sara was taking…"

"Yeah." Cath agreed calmly. She had settled herself against the headboard and was contentedly dragging her manicured nails through Sara's hair. "Strange, isn't it?"

As he contemplated this information with concern, the door was flung open and the remainder of the new team wandered in.

"Hey, we got your message." DB drawled. "How's our girl, she awake yet?"

"Not quite." Nick pursed his lips, nodding at the sleeping woman. "But she's getting there."

Finn strode up to the bed, taking Sara's hand in both her own.

"Come on babe, don't keep us waiting forever." He begged, clutching the patient's hand to her stomach.

Grissom, still hovering uncertainly at the foot of the bed, watched these overt displays of affection with bemusement. Russell was the first to notice the stranger in their midst and raised an eyebrow.

"Hi, I don't believe we've met."

"Gil Grissom." He nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets in a deliberate attempt to starve off any formalities.

"Ah, the husband." Finn smiled knowingly, taking Nick's vacated seat. She, like Morgan, had been expecting something ... else from Sara's spouse. Something younger, more well-toned.

"Well, it's nice to finally meet you." Russell greeted. "I'm sorry it's under these circumstances." The supervisor paused, noting the deliberate distance between Grissom and the bed. "Would you like a few minutes with her?" He offered, gesturing to the door. "We'd understand. I know if it was my wife…"

"No, it's okay." Gil assured him hurriedly, taking an obvious step back.

"You sure?" Nick queried. "We can clear out if you want to sit with her a while…"

"No Nick." Gil smiled tightly. "It's okay. I might just go … get some air." He practically speed-walked to the door, watching on by several pairs of confused eyes.

"That was weird." Finn observed with a frown.

"Yeah well, welcome to Grissom." Greg shrugged, unperturbed. "Maybe it was just too much for him to see her like this."

"Yeah, maybe." Nick breathed, not quite reassured by the statement.

X x x

"Hey," The Texan exhaled, blowing into his cupped hands to warm them up. "You alright?"

"I'm fine." Grissom shrugged, straightening up against the wall.

"You sure?" Nick challenged. "You know, it's okay to be upset. No one wants to see their loved ones like that."

"It's not that, Nicky." Grissom answered enigmatically, offering a meek shrug. "It's … something else."

"What?"

"It doesn't matter now." He brushed it off. "You should get back in there with her."

"Well, aren't you coming?" Nick pressed, getting more perplexed by his old friend's odd behaviour with every passing second.

"No, I think I'll go back to the house for a while." Gil started to move away, but was quickly called back.

"Alright, what's going on?" Nick frowned. "Archie checked Sara's phone records; he said you two haven't spoken in weeks?"

"It's complicated Nick."

"Well, how complicated can it be? She needs you right now; you can't just walk away from her."

"Oh, it's too late for that." Catherine's harsh voice infiltrated the conversation as the sound of her heels clicked towards them in measured paces. "He already has."

The younger man turned, scrutinising her face in bewilderment before whirling back around to Grissom.

"What the hell's going on here? What's she talking about?"

"Sara and I split up. We're not together anymore Nick."

The look of devastation that swept across Nick's features cut through Grissom like a blade, reminding him of all the reasons he hadn't wanted to come back here.

"What? Why, what happened?"

"Like I said, it's complicated."

"It doesn't matter." Cath cut him off bluntly. "What matters right now is Sara, and she needs you to be there for her."

"I am here, Catherine." He pointed out uncomfortably. "Look, I have to go. Call me if she wakes up."

"Hey, Grissom!" Nicky hollered helplessly at his hunched back, but the older man continued to depart quickly across the hospital parking lot. "I don't get it!" He threw his hands out in loss. "What the hell happened?"

X x x

"When did this happen?" Greg asked, stunned.

"A few weeks ago apparently." Catherine shrugged.

"I bet I know when." Finn chipped in, cocking her head to the side in thought. "You remember when we were working the dead News presenter case?"

"Yeah?" DB frowned, moving to rest against the bottom of the bed.

"Well, I was working with Sara and … she kept cancelling his calls. She said that he wanted to talk, and she didn't think it was going to end well."

"Wow." Nick frowned. "So, you knew that they were having problems?"

"What, didn't you?" The blonde countered pointedly.

"Finn's right." Morgan backed her up. "I mean, I've worked here for over a year and I've never seen Grissom in the lab once. It hardly seemed a marriage of equals when you think about it."

"Yeah, but, that's just how they worked." Nick shifted uneasily on the spot.

"Yeah, their marriage was always unconventional but they just made it work somehow." Greg added with a small shrug.

"Well maybe things stopped working." DB sighed sadly. "You know, she did take a call from him around the time we closed that case, but she didn't look too happy about it."

Catherine flicked her gaze around the room silently, eventually letting it settle on Finn.

She, Nick and Greg had all spent thirteen years trying to break through Sara's airtight defences and catch the slightest glimpse of what lay underneath.

And these people had cracked it in a matter of months.


	18. Clasp a sainted maiden

He tapped in the alarm code and tossed his keys onto the table, surveying the room with a heavy sigh.

Sara had certainly made this place her own in his absence. Fresh flowers were scattered on every available surface, paintings adorning the walls and quirky ornaments on every piece of furniture.

It was a home. But it wasn't his home.

He trudged into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water, taking a long sip to sooth his painfully dry throat.

It had been awkward at the hospital. Even the boys seemed uncertain of how to react to his presence.

Catherine … well, Catherine was pissed. But then he'd almost expected that.

What he hadn't been prepared for was the attention showered on his estranged wife by the new members of the team. He'd gathered from Sara's phone calls that she was getting on well with them, but he hadn't expected them to be so demonstrative around her.

Then again, he had been away for a long time. And evidently there were a few things that even he still didn't know about his spouse.

X x x

Catherine peeked around the door, relieved to see that she wasn't too late.

"Hey," she smiled, slipping into the room. "I heard that you were being released today, I wanted to say goodbye before you left."

Laura whipped her head up to greet her with a wide grin.

"Sara nearly woke up!" She gushed brightly. "She was drowsy, but I think she knew I was there."

"I'm sure she did." Catherine agreed softly, joining the woman on the edge of the bed and squeezing her hand gently. "And I'm sure she's going to wake up real soon."

"You'll stay with her?" Laura asked hopefully, her familiar dark eyes practically pleading with the criminalist.

"Yeah, of course." Cath nodded reassuringly. "Don't worry, she won't ever be alone. My colleague's still with her now."

The word, surprisingly natural on her lips, slipped out before she could withhold it. Finn _wasn't_ her colleague. Come to think of it, neither was Sara anymore.

"Good." Laura hummed. "That's good." She paused, tipping her head to the side curiously. "You people … you really love her."

Catherine cocked an eyebrow in surprise, a small smile twitching at the corners of her lips.

"That's good." The woman continued, more to herself than to Catherine. "That she's loved … she's got people who take care of her. I should have taken better care of her." She added with a note of sadness in her voice.

"Sara's going to be fine." Cath promised, patting her hand firmly. "And from where I'm sitting, you did a pretty good job with her."

Laura looked up, watery eyes searching the blonde's pleasant smile.

"Maybe – when she's better – you could come with her to visit me sometime?"

"Yeah." Cath grinned, nodding slowly as she contemplated the offer. "I'd like that."

The door was pushed open and a nurse shuffled in with a wheelchair, putting a sudden end to the conversation.

Laura's reaction was a predictable one, but it still made Catherine smile.

"Uh, I do not need that." She rolled her eyes, hopping off the bed and shrugging her jacket on.

"I know Ms Sidle." The nurse shrugged apologetically. "But the hospital has rules."

Once again, the only reply offered to the statement was an insolent noise.

Evidently, this is where Sara got her stubborn gene from.

X x x

Grissom peered into each lab as he went by, his face contorted into a concerned frown. He had walked these halls so many times, and yet right now he felt utterly at a loss of where to start.

Finally, he spotted who he was looking for and darted into the room.

"Hey guys." He rushed out, stalking up to the bench.

"Hey," Nick looked up, bemusement marring his features. "I thought you'd be at the hospital with Sara."

"Yeah, I …" he cleared his throat, debating how to reply to that and eventually deciding that it was in his best interest not to answer it at all. Instead, he held up a large evidence bag containing a gun case. "I checked the house – Sara's spare gun is missing."

"What?" Greg squeaked, snatching the bag from his hands.

"I checked the whole house, it's not there." Grissom added hurriedly. "You said that this guy – Basderic? You said he'd been in the house?"

"Yeah, yeah we think so." Nick frowned. "Greg…"

"I'll get this to Mandy to print." The younger man said before he could finish the instruction. "And I'll call Brass."

As Greg disappeared into the corridor, already fumbling for his cell phone, Grissom moved around the bench to get a better look at what had Nick so occupied.

"What are you working on?"

"I'm going through the paperwork I got from Sara's home office." He murmured. "I'm hoping it might give us some answers."

Grissom noticeably picked up on the fact that he referred to it as 'Sara's' office, but he decided not to comment. He snapped on a pair of gloves and picked up the top document. A bank statement. Nothing he didn't already know about.

Nick watched his natural movements with the evidence in awe for a moment, a thoughtful look crossing his features.

"Hey, what do you know about Sara's family?"

"Her mother's schizophrenic. She's in a care facility in California." The response came easily, as if he'd been expecting the question at some point.

"No, she's not actually." Nick countered bluntly. "Sara moved her to Vegas a few weeks ago. She didn't tell you that?"

"No." Grissom frowned, putting the notes down and peering at Nick over his glasses. "No, she didn't."

"Well, we've already met her mother." Nick shrugged it off as unimportant for the time being. "What do you know about her brother?"

"Jack." Gil exhaled deeply. "Sara never really talked about him. They lost contact after she left foster care."

"Yeah, well they got back in contact again recently. The dead male at the hotel…"

Grissom stilled, his mind visibly working through this. He hadn't even known that Sara was looking for her brother, let alone that she'd found him.

Nick, however, remained oblivious to the perplexity he had just caused his former boss; as another thought infiltrated his thoughts.

"Hey Grissom …" He began uncertainly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Whatever's going on between you and Sara, you know that you'll always have a place here."

Gil raised an eyebrow at him but elected not to offer a reply.

He knew that he was going to have to explain the full situation to them eventually, but it just didn't seem right while Sara was still unconscious.

Instead, he picked up a second piece of paper and pretended to scan it intently.

Getting the hint, Nick followed suit and continued flicking through the documents. As he did so, a familiar logo jumped out at him from the middle of the stack.

"Oh, hey, this looks like something right here." He frowned, shuffling the form out and placing it on the light-table.

Grissom leant over his shoulder to see what was so probative about it. On first glance, it appeared to be a standard information sheet for the care facility.

However, as he scanned the first few lines he realised what had caused Nick's brow to shoot into his hairline in surprise.

X x x

"You're good with her." Finn noted, impressed.

"Yeah, well." Cath shrugged with a modest laugh as she straightened out the blanket and stroked Sara's cheek with the back of her knuckles. "I had twelve years of practice." She softened her features, settling back into the chair. "It can take a while to win Sara's affections, but keep trying with her. Trust me, when you get past those bulletproof defences, you'll be glad you put the effort in."

Finn smiled gratefully. Catherine had made it quite clear that she was still suspicious of Jules; and it was obvious, not only from her behaviour towards Sara but also from conversations with the team, that she was the mother bear of the group.

The fact that she was still willing to share her guys with another woman was gracious to say the least.

"She does seem like a tough cookie to crack."

"Yeah, she can be." Cath chuckled, a sound Finn thus far had not heard. "She'll start to open up to you eventually; you just have to give her time."

"Hmm." Finn agreed absently. "I wish she'd opened up before this happened."

Catherine flicked her gaze up, searching the woman's features to the point where Finn started to squirm under the intense scrutiny. Finally, Cat looked away again, mumbling softly under her breath.

"You seem to be doing alright with her so far."

Finn wasn't sure how to take the unreadable tone, so she dropped her eyes silently to Sara's clenched hand and picked it up.

Wrapping the girl's slender fingers around her own, she felt something small and metallic drop into her palm.

"Nick's ring." She noted with a frown, holding it up for Catherine to see.

"Yeah." Cath cleared her throat, extending a hand for it. "It used to belong to Warrick."

Warrick had only taken to wearing the ring shortly before his death, but it quickly became something to identify with him. After his death, Nick had claimed it from his personal effects and it had decorated his right hand ever since.  
They all had their own ways of holding onto the memory of their lost friend; evidently Nick thought that Sara needed it more than him right now.

As she was busy examining the ring, tracing her fingertip over the intricate design, she never noticed Finn's attention detract back to the brunette's hand clasped protectively in her own.

Slender fingers closed around tightly it for the briefest of seconds before relaxing again.

"Sara?" She called hopefully, leaning forward with anticipation. Catherine matched her movements, sanguine blue eyes latching onto the peaceful face.

Sara's eyelashes flickered briefly before, finally, dark eyes blinked open.

"Hey, hi." Finn grinned, desperately trying to catch the unfocused gaze. "Welcome back, girl."

"Finn?" Sara mumbled weakly, gripping her hand tightly as she attempted to search her surroundings through hazy eyes.

"Hey you." A second voice called, getting her attention. She turned her head slowly, seeking out the sound.

"Cat?" She whispered, her throat still sore from the effects of the breathing tube. "What are you doing here?"

The sleepy question was a mix of confusion and gratitude. Clearly Sara didn't know quite what was going on, but she was glad for her friend's presence all the same and that was enough for Catherine.

"I came to see you." She explained with a small smile, moving to perch carefully on the edge of the bed. She reached out a hand to stroke Sara's bandaged forehead carefully, shaking her head slowly in loss. "What did you do, honey?"

Sara looked down, mumbling something incoherent with a confused frown as she examined her scraped arms curiously. Realising that she was still far too lost to give a logical response, Cath leant down and pressed a kiss to her cheek; silently reassuring her that it was okay.  
She could still smell traces of Sara's conditioner and her skin was soft despite the injuries to them.

She almost didn't want to release her. It had been so long since she'd been this close to anyone she knew, she probably needed the contact as much as her fallen comrade did right now.

Finn continued to stroke the dark satin-like hair softly, watching the display of friendship between the old colleagues. She spotted how Sara leant into Catherine's awkward embrace, as if she was attempting to immerse herself in the safe feeling of the other woman's arms.

She might be confused, but she knew that she was safe. That was probably more security than she'd had for a long time.


	19. Long I stood there

**Just as a warning, I'm back at uni now after spring break so updates may be a little slower. However, I'll try to keep on top of them. **

**x x x x**

"What happened?"

The pitiful voice was filled with confusion as Sara flicked her wide dark eyes between her companions.

Finn and Catherine shared an uncertain look across the bed; one which did not go unnoticed by the patient.

"Guys." She called as forcefully as she could in her weakened state. "What happened?"

"Sara, what do you remember?" Finn asked at last, squeezing her hand in the hope that the simple act would be enough to keep her calm.

Sara furrowed her brow, although it caused a shot of pain to course through her skull.

"I don't." She mumbled sullenly at last.

Catherine pursed her lips, rubbing a comforting hand up and down her arm. She knew that Sara wouldn't let up until she got a straight answer, but she didn't want to risk the girl further hurting herself.

"Honey, you were on the roof of the lab." She explained warily. "You remember?"

"No." Sara blinked, tears filling her eyes as she struggled to recall the event. "I … I fell?"

Again, the women shared a look.

"Yeah." Cath smiled sadly at last, deciding that now wasn't the time for semantics. "Yeah, but you're going to be okay now."

Curious about the bandage wrapped around her forehead, Sara lifted a heavy arm to touch her fingertips to it. However, a sharp pain in her shoulder stilled her movements and she turned to frown at it in deep thought.

"Jack." She whispered, a flash of recollection crossing her eyes; followed by something much darker.

"You're going to be okay." Jules promised hoarsely, meeting Catherine's equally concerned gaze across the bed. "We've got you now."

Sara looked up, devastation clouding her features as she caught the look passing between them.

"You know." She murmured quietly, sinking as far back as the stiff pillows would allow and covering her face with her grazed hands.

"Sara, it's alright." Catherine slipped one arm under her neck, and using the other to prise her hands away. "Just try to rest, babe."

"The guys … do they know too?" She managed to choke out as crystal tears finally began to make their way silently down her face.

"Yeah, they do." Finn stroked her hair lovingly. "They're at the lab; they've all been in to see you. Even Grissom."

Sara stilled, and for a moment neither woman was sure whether it was for better or worse as her defences noticeably wavered.

"Gil's here?" She asked, instinctively looking towards the door as if he was just going to walk in.

"Yeah, he is." Cath brushed her escaping wisps of hair aside tenderly. "Do you want to see him?"

Sara hesitated, her eyes drifting closed momentarily before flicking back up and latching onto Catherine's.

"Does he want to see me?"

It was obvious from the pleading stare what she wanted to hear, but Catherine just couldn't bring herself to lie to her old friend; especially not when she was in such a vulnerable place.

However, even the prospect of lying to Sara didn't bother her quite as much as the realisation that she honestly didn't know the answer to that question.

X x x

"Alright, thanks Catherine." Nick breathed, tousling his hair. "Yeah, I'll let everyone know." Hanging up, he turned back to Grissom. The man remained engrossed in paperwork, barely even listening to the phone call. "Sara's awake. She's doing fine."

He didn't know exactly what kind of reaction he was hoping for, but either way he didn't receive it. In fact, the only sign Gil gave that he'd even heard Nick was a brief pause in his movements and a small nod.

"Good." The former boss murmured at last. "That's good."

"Yeah." Nick frowned. "I'm going to go … tell DB." He gestured to the hallway, casting bemused glances over his shoulder as he went.

He knew that thingss weren't all A-OK with the married couple right now, but he would have expected at least an element of relief or ... something.

Alone in the room, Grissom took off his glasses and wiped a weary hand across his face.

"Thank God." He muttered softly, tipping his head back to the ceiling and taking several deep breaths as he turned the words over in his mind.

Sara was awake. She was okay.

She was going to be _okay_.

"Hey Boss," a soft voice called him back from his musings.

"David." Gil straightened up, his previous mask of indifference quickly falling back into place. Taking the greeting as permission, Hodges moved swiftly into the lab and wrapped his arms hesitantly around the man, taking comfort from his strong stature.

"It's good to see you." He murmured, reluctantly stepping back and stuffing his hands into the deep pockets of his labcoat. "How's uh, how's Sara?"

"She's awake." Gil answered evenly. "Catherine just called to let us know."

"Oh, fantastic." David grinned, genuinely pleased by the news. "That's great, it's really..." He trailed off, licking his lips. "Hey, Grissom … whatever Sara did, I'm sure she didn't mean to hurt you. I mean, not that it's ever right to cheat, but…"

"Sara didn't cheat." Grissom cut in bluntly, his previous soft tone abruptly replaced by a harsh, cold one.

Hodges recoiled slightly, his brow furrowing in bemusement.

"No, I'm sure there's an explanation..."

"She didn't cheat, David." Grissom repeated, not bothering to elaborate as he scooped up his stack of documents and brushed past him into the hall.

"No, of course not." David hummed a little jadedly.

X x x

As Catherine slipped back into the room, she was met with the discomforting sight of Sara curled against Finn's shoulder. The blonde had slipped an arm under her shoulders and was dragging her fingers through Sara's escaping tresses.

It was a touching scene, but left Catherine feeling oddly cold.

"I've told the boys." She cleared her throat, peering across the bed in an attempt to see Sara's face. "Is she asleep?"

"I think so." Finn smiled. "Poor thing, she must be shattered."

"Yeah." Cath sighed, sinking into her chair. "I don't think she really understood what had happened."

"Well, that makes all of us then." Finn said, dragging her free hand up and down Sara's arm.

"We should go." Cath hummed awkwardly, frowning at the tender actions she was witness to. "Nick said they've found something in her paperwork."

"Yeah, okay." Finn extracted herself carefully, almost reluctantly, and they both stood up.

Catherine made a point of readjusting Sara's body carefully until she was content that the brunette was comfortable. With a satisfied hum, she leant down and pressed a firm kiss to the girl's forehead.

Sara emitted a soft mewling noise at the action, which drew a laugh from both women.

"Aw, I don't think she wants you to go." Finn teased lightly.

"No, she's just complaining about the unwanted physical affection." Cath stroked her hair lovingly. "But she'd better get used to it from now on. Because I'm not going anywhere until we get to the bottom of this."

X x x

"Sara was trying to get Jack into Tranquil Hours."

"Really?" DB drawled. "Well, that's interesting. So, big brother gets out of prison, drifts around for a few years and finally tracks her down."

"Or, Sara tracked him down and tried to help him." Greg posited.

"I doubt it." Nick corrected. "Grissom said she never mentioned her brother, let alone trying to find him."

"Either way, could Sara even afford to put both him and her mother in a care facility?" Morgan asked. "I mean, those things don't come cheap."

"Well, she had a plan for that too." Nick added with a touch of sadness, placing his hands flat on the table. "She was selling the house."

"What? That gorgeous house?" Morgan barked, eyes wide with shock. "You're kidding."

"She was looking at apartments in the city."

"Damn." DB frowned. "Alright, well that explains what he was doing in Vegas at least."

"Why put him up in a hotel though?" Greg jumped in. "Why not take him to her house?"

"Because she's smarter than that." Catherine cleared her throat. "He might be her brother, but he was still a schizophrenic drug addict."

"Yeah, who attacked her." Finn added pointedly. "She probably thought she was safer in his hotel room because she had her weapon."

"Yeah, speaking of," Nick cleared his throat. "Grissom found Sara's spare gun case, empty. Mandy's running prints now."

"If it's anything like the rest of the house, she won't find anything." Finn sighed. "Basderic must have worn gloves."

The despondent mood was broken by the trilling of a phone, causing the whole table-top to vibrate.

"Oh, sorry." Russell snatched it up and checked the caller ID. "Excuse me," he drifted towards the hall as he answered. They barely caught the beginning of the conversation, but it didn't take a genius to work out who was on the other end.

At least someone's marriage was still going strong.

"Where's Grissom?" Cath asked in the silence that followed his departure.

"I don't know, he wandered off earlier." Nick shrugged meekly.

"I'll find him." She muttered, stalking out of the opposite door to DB and leaving the remaining CSIs to contemplate the new information.

"So, she really didn't know what had happened?" Morgan queried at last.

"No." Finn breathed, throwing her hands out. "She did remember what had happened with Jack though, but she didn't seem to want to talk about it."

"Can you blame her?" Greg scoffed. "She was raped by her brother. It's probably not something she wants to remember."

"No, of course not." Finn agreed quietly. "But she's going to have to talk about it eventually. You can't keep something like that inside forever."

X x x

"So this is where you're hiding." Catherine noted coolly, ducking through the door. "A bit inappropriate given the circumstances, don't you think?"

Grissom turned away from the view over the city, one eyebrow raised as she strode towards him.

"I wanted to see what she saw. I thought it might help me understand what was going through her head."

"Good luck with that." Catherine scoffed, joining him at the edge of the roof. "She doesn't even know what was going through her head."

He turned fully to face her, a questioning look in his eyes.

"So, she didn't tell you why she did it?"

Instead of answering, Catherine peered over the edge and winced. Even from her safe distance away, it still made her stomach lurch. Taking a large step back, she placed her hands on her hips.

"Are you going to go see her?"

He shifted, stuffing his hands in his pockets and hunching his shoulders against the breeze.

"She won't want to see me."

"She doesn't know what she wants Gil." Cath threw her hands out testily. "She's all over the place right now. Which is exactly why you should be with her."

His reluctant expression said it all and she shook her head at him in loss.

"I don't believe you." She scoffed humourlessly. "After all that time you spent pining after her; now you finally have her and you're just letting her go!"

"I'm not …"

"Yes, you are!" She interrupted. "Sara waited a long time for you Gil. She shouldn't still be waiting now that you're married."

"I don't know what you want me to say." He shrugged helplessly, wandering back to the periphery of the building and releasing a deep sigh. His breath misted in a fine cloud, before dissipating into the dark sky.

"I want you to say that you still love her!"

"Of course I do." He frowned. "But that doesn't seem to be enough for her anymore."

"Of course it's not." Catherine shook her head. "The best thing about being married is that you've always got someone to go home to. But Sara – she goes home to an empty house every day. That's not a marriage Gil. That's not what she needs."

"I don't know what she does need." He turned, and for the first time she noticed the unshed tears glistening in his eyes.

"She needs you." She explained softly. "She needs her husband by her side, there to talk to when she needs him, not whenever he can be bothered to answer the phone."

"It's not that simple, Catherine."

"Well from where I'm standing it is." She countered, attempting to keep her temper in check. "Look Gil, you need to figure this out, and quickly. Because Sara needs to know one way or another. If you want to be with her then you need to make it work."

He looked up, his watery blue eyes searching her face for an answer that he knew wasn't there to find.

"And if I don't?"


	20. Above his chamber door

Catherine almost recoiled at the question. It had never crossed her mind that Grissom wouldn't want to be with Sara anymore – lord knows, it's all he'd wanted for the last decade.

"Then you need to talk to her." She answered softly at last. "Either way, she needs to know how you feel. She needs to be able to trust in something, even if it's the knowledge that her marriage is over."

He nodded carefully, taking in her words. Deciding that he had some thinking to do alone, she left him on the edge of the roof and wandered back to the door, where she paused for just a moment longer.

"I hope you know what you're throwing away here Gil." She said evenly. "She waited for you last time … she won't wait again."

He watched her walk away, his face contorted in a mask of sadness. The slump in Catherine's shoulders as she disappeared into the shadows of the stairs was reminiscent of so many conversations about the captivating brunette.

How many times had Catherine warned him of what he was doing to Sara? How many times did she tell him to stop stringing her along?

Of course, back then she had been telling him to forget about Sara; to let her go before he broke her heart for good.

Which, ironically, was exactly what he was trying to do now.

X x x

"Taylor Wynard." Jim crooned, walking in circles around the table. "You're a tricky man to track down."

"I've been out of state all week." He scowled, folding his arms across his chest defensively. "What's all this about? I got a call about Sara…"

"Yeah," Jim swung himself into a seat opposite the man and raised an almost-threatening eyebrow at him. "Let's talk about Sara."

"Well, is she in some kind of trouble?" Taylor frowned.

"Why would you think that?"

"I came in to see how I could help and you threw me into an interrogation room." The man pointed out tersely. "Right now, I don't know what to think."

Ignoring the statement, Jim slid a picture across the table in front of him and tapped it with his fingertip. Taylor stared at it dumbly for a long moment.

"What the hell is this?" He asked eventually, snatching it up and peering closely at the image.

"Well, that's you … and Sara." Brass pointed out calmly, folding his hands on the table.

"Yeah, I can see that." Taylor snapped, tossing the offending item back onto the table. "Look, will you just tell me what's going on here? Is Sara accusing me of something?" The indignant tone in his voice was underlined by a hint of fear and caused the detective to soften his tone a little. The last thing he needed was for this man to decide he needed a lawyer.

"How do you know Sara?"

"We met at a bar a few weeks ago, the night that was taken." He gestured to the photo, straightening up in his seat. "Who took that?"

"We don't know yet." Brass answered bluntly, quickly getting them back on topic. "Did you see anyone else around Sara that night? Was she with anyone, or did anyone seem to be paying her too much attention?"

"No." The man softened his steely gaze a little, beginning to realise where the line of questioning was going. "No, she was alone." He paused, cocking his head to the side in thought for a long moment. "Actually, now you mention it there was another guy watching her."

"Who?"

"I don't know. I clocked him staring at her early on so I kept my distance for a while. When he didn't make a move, I figured he was just there to look."

"Can you describe this man? What did he look like?"

"I don't know," Taylor breathed, flexing his hands. "He was a white guy, average height, brown hair."

Brass looked up, catching Finn's eye on the other side of the one-way mirror as he slid a second photo across the table.

"Was this the guy?"

"Yeah, yeah that was him." Taylor leant forward, staring at the image closely. "What's this about? Is Sara okay?"

Jim levelled him an even gaze, offering the first glimpse of hurt behind his blue eyes.

"No, she's not."

X x x

Finn almost winced at the cold tone of Brass' voice.

She knew why he was putting the screws on this guy, but she couldn't help but feel sorry for Taylor. He clearly hadn't done anything wrong, and he seemed to genuinely care about Sara. He had, after all, come in voluntarily when he'd gotten a call saying she needed his help at the police station.

Behind her, she heard the door open and Nick's familiar footsteps approached the mirror.

"Hey, how's it going in here?"

"He's identified Basderic as being in the bar watching Sara the night they met."

"Okay." Nick released a breath. "Okay, that might be enough to compel a warrant to search Basderic's house."

Finn nodded in agreement, turning back to the interrogation room.

"I knew he'd have to be really good-looking to have gotten Sara's attention." She hummed appreciatively. "Although, I still don't think he's quite as cute as NTSB-guy."

"Hey." Nick scowled, sending her a dirty look. "Watch it! That's our colleague you're talking about."

Without bothering to wait for a response, he pushed his way into the room; leaving her to shake her head in bemusement after him.

She couldn't help thinking that Morgan would have understand her sentiments much better than the angry Texan.

X x x

"Mr Wynard, my name's Nick Stokes; I'm from the crime lab." He sat down beside Jim and clasped his hands on the table.

"Crime Lab? What's going on?" Taylor asked, startled. "Did something happen to Sara?"

"She's in the hospital." Jim explained coolly.

"What?" He blinked, stuttering helplessly over his words. "I didn't hurt her! I haven't even seen her since that night!"

"Alright, calm down. No one's accusing you of hurting her." Nick held up his hands. "What I want to know is what happened this night?" He tapped the photo of Taylor and Sara in the parking lot.

"Nothing happened." He shifted uncomfortably. "We met in the bar, we had a couple of drinks … we …" he gestured to the picture idly, assuming that it could speak for itself.

"Then what?"

"Nothing." He shrugged. "I waited with her until her cab came and then I went home."

"So, you didn't know that she was married?" Nick cocked an eyebrow, a distinct hint of antipathy in his voice.

"Yeah, I did actually." He snapped, running a hand through his hair. "She, uh, she said that she was separated."

"But she was still wearing her wedding ring." The CSI pressed.

Taylor shifted, fixing the Texan with a disparaging look.

"Look, it's not like we were moving in together or anything. She was cute and … I don't know, she seemed lonely. I kept her company for a night. Is that so bad?" When neither man answered, he pushed himself away from the table and cleared his throat. "If we're done here, I'd like to see Sara."

X x x

"Oh, sorry." DB did a double take, oblivious to the irony of apologising for walking in on somebody in his own office. "I didn't know you were in here."

"No." Grissom frowned, putting down the picture of DB's son that he had been scrutinising. "I needed to think. I guess it's just habit to come in here."

"It's okay." DB chuckled, gesturing for him to have a seat. "How, uh, how are you coping with everything?"

Grissom blinked, surprised by the forthright question from this complete stranger.

Sara had said that Russell was personable, but this was more than he expected.

However, since his earlier attempts to unburden himself had failed miserably, he figured he may as well give it one more shot.

"You're married?" He said, rejecting the offer of sitting down in favour of strolling around the room. It was eerily familiar, and yet foreign.

"Yeah, forty-two years and counting." DB grinned, leaning back in his chair. "She's my other half."

"Huh." Gil nodded slowly. He leant down to peer into the glass tank at the back of the office, quirking an eyebrow suspiciously at the mushrooms staring back at him.

"Don't worry, they're medicinal." The new boss waved a disregarding hand upon seeing what had captured his attention. "Have you been in to see Sara yet?"

"No, not yet." Grissom straightened up and finally sank into a chair. It felt strange being on this side of his own desk. It was not a feeling he revelled in, it had to be said. "I will, I just ..."

He trailed off, tipping his head towards the ceiling. Russell watched the man before him, attempting to size him up. He was a puzzling creature; thoughtful, subdued, but obviously deeply troubled.

"Hey," he called softly, interrupting Gil's musings. "I know I haven't known Sara as long as you have. But, I think you did the right thing by ending it."

"You do?" He frowned, sitting forward with intrigue.

"Yeah. Sara needs company, she needs … affection. And right now you're not in a place where you can give it to her."

"No, I'm not." Grissom breathed. "I've never been very good at the marriage thing. Sara was better at it than me."

"Yeah, well women usually are." Russell chuckled. "For what it's worth, you don't have to worry about her, she'll be alright." He drawled in that reassuringly calm voice. "We've got enough people here looking out for her."

Grissom nodded slowly in agreement. He didn't know this man and he didn't have any particular desire for that to change. But for the first time since his arrival, he admired him. This stranger, with no personal obligation, had taken Sara under his wing and looked out for her when Grissom wasn't there to do it himself.

And, contrary to the rest of the team, he hadn't judged Gil for his decision. Perhaps he truly did understand why it had to happen.

Catherine's earlier words flashed through his mind and he finally began to relax a little.

For once, he felt like he'd done the right thing. For once, he had put Sara first.

He just hoped that one day she would understand that.


	21. There came a tapping

**Thanks as always to everyone reading and reviewing :)**

**x x x x**

He took a deep breath, fidgeting anxiously with the ends of his sleeves. He didn't know why he was so nervous: Sara was still his wife – technically. He should just be able to walk in and talk to her. But something was stopping him.

He hadn't spoken to her face-to-face since before he ended their marriage. As such, he wasn't sure how she would take his presence here; especially given her current closeness with her colleagues. She might not want him hanging around like a shadow right now when she already had a fairly substantial support network.

He supposed it was only natural that Sara would have looked for comfort elsewhere, but he had never really thought about the semantics. He guessed, deep down, that he hoped she would call on him if she ever needed anything; regardless of their marital problems. Clearly, she had looked a little further out for support.

Still, he owed it to them both to speak to her. If he didn't, the guilt would eat away at him. And Catherine was right; Sara deserved a straight answer from him about the state of their relationship.

Exhaling slowly, he straightened out the invisible creases in his clothes and strode down the hall; attempting to exude more confidence than he actually possessed.

However, with one hand on the smooth handle, he came to an abrupt stop outside the door.

Apparently, he was too late. Someone had beaten him here.

He considered going in anyway, but the bashful smile on Sara's face was so bright and unfamiliar; he didn't want to be the one responsible for removing it. Surely, he'd already done enough damage.

With a resigned sigh, he dropped his hand and shuffled back they way he'd come.

Evidently, she had already made up her own mind about the state of affairs between them. Why should he intrude on that?

X x x

"I hope Jim didn't put the screws to you too much." She laughed nervously, threading the blanket between her hands. "He can be a bit full on sometimes."

"Yeah, I see that." Taylor chuckled. He ran a hand through his hair; causing it to stick out in all directions before falling naturally back into its style. "I guess he's just overprotective of you."

"Yeah." The ghost of a smile appeared to dance briefly on her lips. She could practically picture the aging detective's left eye twitching as he had interrogated poor Taylor about their encounter.

"And the other guy – the Southern one"

"Nick." Sara grinned. "Yeah, he's a good guy; as long as you stay on the right side of him."

"Yeah, I'll take your word for that." He laughed jovially, resting his elbows on the mattress.

He hadn't really known what to expect. At the station, they'd made it sound as if Sara was hanging on by a thread; and when he'd first seen her that had appeared to be a pretty accurate description.

But then she'd woken up and blinked at him with those gorgeous brown eyes, so full of confusion.

She was in pain and he couldn't deny that she had looked better the night he first met her, but she was going to be okay and that was the important thing.

Having lapsed into an awkward silence, he shifted in the uncomfortable chair and flicked his eyes back to her face. She was studiously avoiding his gaze, opting instead to play with the IV in her slender wrist. He hated needles, had done ever since he was a child; but the plastic tube didn't seem to be bothering the woman too much. Then again, she was a scientist. She probably wasn't fazed by such things anymore.

"Sara, I don't mean to pry." He coughed, touching his hand lightly to his forehead. "But, what actually happened?"

"Honestly, I don't know." She shrugged. "And no one seems inclined to tell me, which makes me think there's something important that I'm missing."

"Well, that makes two of us then." He offered a comforting smile, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "At the police station they showed me a photo of some guy – they think he hurt you."

"Really?" She frowned, cocking her head to the side. "What did he look like?"

Could they know what had happened in the hotel room? She couldn't put it past her colleagues to have worked it out.

"Brown hair, blue eyes. Average height I guess."

She released a breath, sinking back into the cushions. It couldn't have been Jack.

Not that that clarified anything. And it still didn't explain what she was doing on the roof.

X x x

With his shoulders hunkered, he attempted to make it through the station unnoticed. However, as seemed to be his MO lately, there was no such luck.

"Hey, I was wondering when you were planning on paying a visit."

Grissom almost winced, but when he turned to his old friend he wore a gracious smile on his lips.

"Jim, hi." He greeted softly, following the detective into his office at the beckoning nod he received.

Without waiting for the peripatetic entomologist to take a seat, Brass had already poured two glasses of scotch and sank into his chair.

"So, how's Paris treating you?"

"Good." Grissom nodded stiffly, accepting the drink tentatively and joining him at the familiar desk. He ran his hand across the smooth wood, drawing to memory all of the conversations sealed into the worn grain. Years of morose thoughts and personal confessions shared in this tiny office.

"It's been good." He cleared his throat, sinking into the well-used chair. "My research grant finally came through."

"Good." Jim echoed hoarsely, quirking an eyebrow. "So, you and Sara are..?"

"Jim," Grissom held up his hands weakly. He was already emotionally battered after the earlier conversations with Catherine and DB. And in light of his trip to the hospital, he would rather not discuss his relationship with Sara right now.

"You still love her Gil, I can tell you do." Brass pressed forcefully, refusing to let him duck the topic.

"Of course I do."

"So what was all that rubbish about not wanting to be with her?"

Ah, clearly Catherine had already beaten him here. Though he didn't know why he was surprised by that.

"Jim … I ended the marriage, for Sara's sake." He resisted the urge to snap at the detective, but it was getting harder with each passing judgement.

"You think this is helping her?" Jim challenged, sitting forward.

Grissom cocked his head to the side, meeting his friend's eye across the cluttered desktop.

"What do you think?"

Surprised by the question, Brass took a moment to consider it; sliding his tumbler thoughtfully from one hand to the other.

"I think she's too young to be sleeping alone every night." He decided at last, a hint of sadness clouding his stoic features. "She deserves more than that."

"I know." Gil hummed quietly, drawing to mind the image of Sara and her companion together at the hospital. "That's why I have to do this."

X x x

"Oh, sorry." Morgan did a double take, blinking at the man sat beside Sara's bed. Beside her, she felt Greg stiffen as they both recognised him from the 'surveillance-style' photographs

The brunette smiled, nodding for them to enter. She hadn't seen any of the other team members since she'd woken up. She vaguely recalled hearing their voices while unconscious, but it was all a bit foggy.

Taylor stood up, stretching his long legs out stiffly.

"No, it's okay." He smiled at the young CSIs pleasantly. "I should probably get going anyway."

"Thank you, for coming here." Sara smiled bashfully, a light blush tinting her pale cheeks.

He flashed a grin in response, squeezing her uninjured shoulder gently.

"I'm really glad you're okay, Sara."

Releasing her, he ducked his head and shuffled towards the door; where he passed a smirking Morgan and suspicious-looking Greg. He was well aware that the CSIs weren't too thirlled with him, but he hadn't had a choice about this. He had to see Sara.

"I can see what Finn was talking about." Morgan whistled once he'd left, earning her a small slap on the arm from Greg.

Sara frowned, not sure what the reference meant but quite sure it wasn't good if the feisty Seattle blonde had something to do with it.

She quickly disregarded the comment, however, as Greg moved swiftly across the room to wrap her in a hug.

"Hey, I'm so glad to see you." He mumbled against her ear. "I've missed you."

She nestled herself against his chest, revelling in the familiar feeling of being in his arms. She could hear his heartbeat, echoing through her delicate frame.

Morgan kept a fair distance, letting the old friends have their moment, before she settled herself on the edge of the bed and took in Sara's appearance. She looked much healthier than a couple of days ago, even if that still wasn't much of a compliment.

"I'm really glad you're okay." She said at last, clutching the patient's hand. "You really had us worried for a while there."

"Yeah, so I hear." Sara laughed softly. "I wish I could explain it, but to be honest I don't remember what happened."

The guests both nodded slowly, deciding not to press the issue.

"Have you seen Grissom yet?" Greg asked, taking Taylor's vacated seat beside the bed.

"No." Sara blinked, surprised by the question. "Is he still here?"

"Yeah, he was meant to be coming in to see you today." Morgan explained uneasily, her eyes darting to Greg's. "But I'm sure he just got tied up somewhere."

"Yeah." Sara agreed, clearly unconvinced. "Is Catherine still here?"

"Yeah, I think she's gone back to the hotel for a while. She'll be back in to see you soon."

"Good."

It didn't escape Morgan or Greg's notice that Sara seemed more comforted by the knowledge that Catherine was still around than her husband; but they kept the observation to themselves.

"What about Nick?" The brunette continued, shuffling uncomfortably against the cushions.

"Nick's … dealing." Greg answered tactfully. "He's kind of been struggling with everything lately."

"But he's back at the lab?" She clarified. "That's good."

To be honest, the rest of the team had almost forgotten about the Texan's impromptu 'quitting'; but for Sara it was one of the few things she remembered before waking up in here.

"Hey, I'm really sorry about you and Grissom." Greg hurriedly changed the subject, dancing his gentle hand up and down her arm. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I don't know." She shrugged meekly. "I guess I hoped he would change his mind."

"Maybe he still will?" Morgan suggested hopefully.

"I doubt it." Sara pursed her lips, suppressing a tight smile. "He can't even face me right now. That's hardly a good sign."

"I think he's feeling guilty." Greg countered. "He blames himself."

"For what?"

The sheer confusion in her voice really brought home Catherine and Finn's point. Sara genuinely didn't remember what she had done to herself.

On the drive over, Greg and Morgan had debated how much they should tell her. They had unanimously decided not to mention Jack's name, or Basderic's. But as for her accident, they never really came to a decision …

"Sar, do you know why you were on the roof?" Greg asked cautiously after a painfully long pause.

"No. I don't even remember leaving my house. Catherine said I fell." Her brow was furrowed in bewilderment, a look that was equally endearing and perplexing for her colleagues.

They shared an uncertain look, one which she easily caught.

"Guys, what don't I know?" She pleaded desperately. Catherine hadn't cracked, but she knew she could break Greg if it down came to it. From the moment he set eyes on her as a lovesick-labrat, he never could lie to her.

However, it was Morgan who actually answered, her voice filled with an unexpected sadness.

"You didn't fall, Sara." She breathed, finally daring to meet her gaze. "You jumped."


	22. Nepenthe from thy memories

**One for the CARA fans, I hope you all enjoy it :)  
**

**x x x x**

For a painfully long moment, she showed no sign of having heard them.

Eventually, her glazed, dark eyes widened as she drew the events of that fateful morning to memory. At least the bits she could remember.

She remembered the nightmare; and the suffocating feeling she had woken up to, gasping desperately for every last ounce of air she could get into her burning lungs. She remembered wanting desperately to leave. She remembered wanting to be able to breathe again.

That could explain why she went to the roof; it had always been her hideout when she needed a few minutes to herself and 'her lab' just wasn't quite private enough.  
But she wouldn't have jumped … would she?

"Sar?" Morgan called uncertainly, concern setting in at the brunette's sudden muteness.

Greg squeezed her arm gently, attempting to snap her back to the conversation.

"I don't remember." She murmured at last, shaking her head slowly in complete loss. She wanted to, but her mind simply wouldn't let it come.

"It's okay." He assured her softly. "It doesn't matter right now."

She turned to him, blinking in surprise; as if she'd forgotten he was even there.

"Does Grissom know?"

"Yeah, he does." Morgan answered carefully, gripping her hand tighter. "But it's okay. We understand."

"You do?" She frowned again. "I don't."

Despite the depressing topic of conversation, her colleagues couldn't suppress their smiles at her adorable confusion.

"Sar," Greg cleared his throat, lightly doodling circles on her forearm with his fingertips. "How long have you been taking sleeping pills?"

"A few weeks." She shifted awkwardly, dropping her gaze to the mass of blankest pooling in her lap. Evidently, in her absence, her colleagues had discovered a few things about her life that she'd rather they not know.

"Well, we think someone might have tampered with them." He continued softly. "Have you noticed that you've been sleeping for longer recently, or that you've been disorientated when you wake up?"

"I guess." She scowled. "What do you mean 'tampered with'?"

"We think someone … supersized them." Morgan explained, borrowing Hodges' rather apt description.

"Who?" Despite her husky voice, still thick with fatigue, she somehow managed to sound demanding.

Greg and Morgan shared a look across the bed, instantly realising their mistake. She may be weakened, but there was no way Sara was going to let them leave before she got an answer this time.

X x x

"So that's it?" The harsh voice stilled his movements and he visibly stiffened at the sound of heels clicking determinedly towards him. "You're just running away?"

"She doesn't need me, Catherine." He sighed despondently, dropping his bag to his feet with a dull thud. "I can't help her."

"She still needs to talk to you." The blonde insisted, stalking fully into the break room and stopping in front of him with her hands on her hips; effectively blocking his escape route. "You cannot run out on her until she knows where you stand."

"She _does _know where we stand, Catherine." He whirled to face her, and she finally saw the raw emotion that he had been trying so hard to disguise. His eyes were dry, but the dark circles adorning them said it all. "She's already moved on."

"What? That Taylor guy?" She scoffed. "Come on, you can't hold that against her."

"I'm not holding it against her." He rolled his eyes, stumbling over his next words. "It's just … she's doing okay, Catherine. She doesn't need me here, complicating things."

"Complicating what?" Cath exclaimed, throwing her hands out to the side. "You're her husband. You're meant to be here."

He took a small, shuffling step backwards, sliding onto a stool.

"I just …" he paused, releasing a dejected sigh. "I don't know what to do, Catherine."

X x x

She hadn't heard him enter. It was clear from her body language, the absent-minded clicking of the pen in her hand, her distant stare.

Shuffling further into the room, he cleared his throat softly. She jumped, visibly startled, and turned to smile bashfully at him.

"Hey. How are you doing with all of this?" He drawled as casually as he could, striding up to the bench.

"I'm okay." Finn nodded firmly, offering a tight smile. "I'm just…ah…" she trailed off, resting her palms flat on the bench and hunching her back tensely. "I don't know what I am to be honest."

"Yeah, I know." He squeezed her shoulder lightly.

"It's just brought it all home, you know." She shrugged meekly, sinking onto the nearest seat. "I mean, I know it's a different situation; but I kind of understand what must be going through her head."

DB followed suit and perched on a stool, giving her a reassuring nod to continue.

"Tom Cooley nearly killed me." Her usually mischievous grin was gone, replaced by a look he hadn't seen on her face since they'd dug up Janet Warren. "He destroyed me … I lost my job, I lost my marriage. And I nearly took my own life because of it."

"You're going to be okay." He promised, the words slipping out as naturally as they had done that night two years ago when he had visited her in hospital. She had looked so delicate back then, a mere shell of the woman sat beside him now.

"It's not me you need to be worried about anymore." She flashed a sad smile, her expressive eyes reiterating her words. "It's Sara who needs us now. And we're going to be there for her." She swallowed, nodding resolutely; albeit more to herself than to Russell. "We're going to get her through this."

X x x

Greg and Morgan both jumped as the door swung open and two familiar figures strode inside.

"Hey." Morgan stood up and, though Greg tried to follow he quickly found himself stuck. Sara had fallen asleep on the arm he had splayed across the pillow, pinning him to the bed. Instead, he simply raised his free hand in greeting.

Catherine, abandoning Grissom half-in, half-out of the room, moved instantly to the bedside.

"Aw." She smiled, lightly touching Morgan's arm before leaning down and resting her hands flat on the mattress. "Is she okay?"

"Yeah, I think so." Greg grinned, carefully sliding out of his trapped position with the strawberry-blonde's assistance. Sara emitted a disgruntled murmur at this re-positioning as she shuffled into a more comfortable position.

By the door, Grissom continued to hover tentatively in the threshold. His blue eyes searched the small room, briefly dancing over Greg before settling on Morgan.

In all honestly, he wouldn't have even recognised her. Gone was the sullen scowl and curious eyes of a six year old girl and in their place were a lipstick red pout and the piercing gaze of a scientist. She may be Conrad Ecklie's daughter, but she certainly didn't get his looks.

"Gil." Catherine called firmly, cutting through his internal musings. She remained with her back to him, but there was a knowing look on her face. She didn't need to turn around to know that he hadn't moved. "She won't bite, you know."

Morgan and Greg exchanged an awkward glance, unsettled by the atmosphere between the two ex-supervisors.

"We were just going to call Nick anyway." Greg shuffled towards the door, nodding for his companion to follow. He ducked his head on the way out, determined to avoid his old boss' eye. As much respect as he held for Gil Grissom, it wasn't enough to detract from what he had done to Sara.

If not for this man, Greg's best friend may not be lying in a hospital bed right now.

Grissom waited until they had definitely left before finally sloping towards the bed, where he tentatively picked up Sara's hand.

"She looks so vulnerable." He noted hoarsely.

"She is." Catherine agreed, having already made herself comfortable on the edge of the bed. "That's why you can't leave yet."

"I don't know what to do, Cath." He dropped into the chair, never releasing his grip on Sara. "I love her, but … neither of us are willing to give up our lives. And you said it yourself; we can't carry on the way we are." He exhaled slowly. "It's only fair on her. She needs the chance to be with someone else."

"What if she doesn't want someone else?" Cath asked, softening her gaze.

"Sara can learn to love other people." He assured her. "She has a lot of love to give, Catherine. I wasn't there to receive it, but someone will be."

She flicked her eyes up, narrowing them at him suspiciously. She had known the entomologist for twenty years; nearly half her life. She was probably the only person who truly did 'know' him.

Apart from Sara, of course.

And she knew when there was more to his words. She knew that tone.

"What do you mean?"

For the first time since his return, he didn't miss a beat in answering.

"I mean, I'm not the only one who pined after her." He noted calmly, watching the slow blush creep up Catherine's cheeks.

"You knew about that?" She asked timidly, dropping her gaze to her lap.

"Of course," he shrugged, as if it was a perfectly simple fact. Perhaps, in his strange view of the world, it truly was that simple. "I always knew how you felt about her. So, I guess the question is, do you still feel that way?"


	23. Whom the angels named

**Hi guys, sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up; I've had some personal problems to deal with this week. **

**This isn't my best work, but I wanted to get it up. Hopefully you'll enjoy it anyway. **

**x x x x**

Her name had always fascinated Catherine. To be fair, lots of things fascinated her about the mysterious brunette, but her name in particular had always resonated with her.

Sara. Sara Sidle.

It had always sounded far too much like suicidal for her liking, a resemblance which was not helped by recent events.

But, that aside, she liked the name.

Sara.

She liked the way it rolled off her tongue.

Sara. Not Sarah. No, that would be too traditional; too ordinary.

She had never noticed how common those two syllables were until she left CSI for the federal lab. There was a salon around the corner from her apartment with that name. It was also the name for several languages and cultures, and an anagram for more than one piece of legislation. Naturally, her observant nature had led her to notice these more than most people would.

One of the less exciting aspects of her new job was crime profiling and problem-solving. There were various models available to utilize. There was the most common one: identify the _Pro_blem – then the _C_ause – suggest a _T_reatment – analyse the _O_utput – assess the _R_esult. PROCTOR.

But Catherine had her own preference, the lesser known Scanning-Analysis-Response-Assessment. SARA.

Her colleagues couldn't fathom her desire to use that particular model; it was less accurate and less specific, but it gave her an increasingly rare opportunity to utter that beautiful, mesmerising name.

"Catherine?"

"Hey." She blinked, startled out of her reminiscent reverie by the soft enquiry. "Hi there."

"Gil gone?" Sara shuffled upright, scanning the room through hazy eyes.

"Yeah, he has." She picked up the girl's hand and threaded the slender fingers through her own. "I'm sure he'll be back soon."

The words didn't quite ring true in her voice and she dropped her eyes to their conjoined hands. Sara had to know by now that Grissom was avoiding her, she was too smart not to have noticed. And yet there was always a tiny glimmer of hope in her eye when she asked after him, still burning after all these years of disappointment. It was admirable and crushing all at once.

Sara reached up, brushing Cath's hair away with her fingertips. The older woman flicked her eyes up at the action, a soft frown on her delicate features.

"You never answered his question."

X x x

"I can't believe DB sent us out to this." Morgan complained, tossing a broken lamp aside with disregard. "I mean, a murder or a break in I could deal with; but _this_?"

"Dumping trash is still a crime." Nick pointed out, sinking his hands into a pile of cracked and chipped frying pans and eventually pulling out the remains of a coffee pot.

"Yeah, I guess." She conceded sullenly. "It just doesn't feel right, you know? Us out here trawling through garbage while Basderic is still out there."

"Jim's guys are still looking for him. Until then, there's not much more we can do."

Realising that she wasn't going to get an accord from him, she shifted topic slightly.

"So, how are you doing with … you know..?"

"We need to find a name, or an address," The Texan breathed, blatantly ignoring her; "to see if we can link all of this stuff to a particular business or location."

Morgan emitted a dry chuckle, shaking her head slowly as she rose to her feet.

"Nick." She called softly. Finally, he looked up, meeting her inquiring gaze.

"I'm fine. Sara's fine, so I'm fine." He cleared his throat, gesturing to the scene before them. "Can we get back to it now please?"

She levelled him a pensive gaze for a long minute, before deciding that she was satisfied with his answer; at least for now.

"Do you want the mangled kitchenware or the smashed furniture?"

X x x

Catherine blinked, taken aback by the statement.

"I thought you were asleep?"

Sara offered a mischievous little smile as she readjusted herself against the pillows.

"When I was a kid, my parents used to fight all the time. Afterwards, my mom would come into my room and cry." She paused, biting her lower lip in an adorably nervous gesture. "I woke up once and called out to her. The next day, she couldn't even look at me. After that, I got pretty good at pretending to sleep."

A half-smile twitched at Catherine's lips.

"That's cheeky." She nudged her friend lightly.

"And you're avoiding the question." Sara countered easily.

A blush began to creep up Catherine's cheeks and she stuttered for a moment. Finally, she took Sara's hand and rubbed it gently between her palms.

"Sar, I …" she paused, trying to find the right words. "Right now, it's doesn't matter how I feel. All that matters is that you get better."

"I want to know how you feel." Sara scowled.

Catherine shifted uncomfortably. She had spent eight years preparing for this conversation, but when they'd got married she thought it didn't matter anymore and all those practiced lines faded to a mere memory.

"I tell you what; I'll make you a deal." She folded her arms across the bed, propping her head up on the mattress. "I'll tell you what you want to know, if you tell me why you didn't talk to me about what was going on."

Sara looked away, but Catherine wasn't going to let her avoid this.

"Hey," she called gently. "Honey, you knew this question was coming. Why didn't you tell me what had happened with you and Gil?"

"You weren't here." Sara stated obviously, toying with the corner of the blanket.

"Come on," Cath challenged, raising a sceptical eyebrow. "You never hear of a phone?"

Sara shrugged weakly, continuing to stare into her lap.

"You know that you can call me anytime you need to talk." Catherine continued, tapping her arm gently.

"I know; I'm sorry." Sara sniffed, flicking her tear-filled eyes up to the blonde's face. "You were busy getting to grips with your new job; I didn't want to bother you with my problems." She added bashfully.

"Hey, you wouldn't have been bothering me. I want to help." Cath assured her firmly. "I left the lab, not the family."

"I know." Sara offered a small smile that finally reached her eyes. When the older woman didn't speak again, she cleared her throat. "So, I answered your question…"

Catherine laughed, shaking her long hair out.

"Okay, fair point." She mumbled, chewing on the inside of her cheek. "Alright, yes I had feelings for you. And yeah, I still do."

"Huh."

"That's it?" Cath quirked an eyebrow at the ineloquent reaction to her timid confession.

"No, it's just … I always thought you had a thing for Warrick." As she spoke, Sara glanced down at the ring she had threaded onto her hospital-issue wristband. She had no idea when Nick had given it to her, but she intended to keep it close by until he asked for it back.

Catherine emitted a soft chuckle of agreement.

"Yeah, well I don't think that was such a well-kept secret." She admitted with a smirk. "But, yeah. I was attracted to Warrick. You and he had a lot of similar traits."

"Really?" Sara cocked her head to the side.

"Yeah." Cath smiled, tucking a loose strand of brunette hair behind Sara's ear. "You're both passionate, thoughtful. You both get a certain look on your face when you're concentrating on something." She smiled; a look which Sara mirrored.

Finally, the younger woman looked away, a light blush creeping up her face.

"I never knew." She murmured at last.

"That was kind of the idea." Catherine nudged her with a teasing smile.

"Why?"

"Because, you were with Grissom."

"Not twelve years ago I wasn't." Sara contradicted.

"No, but you wanted to be." Catherine frowned. "I didn't want to complicate things. Anyway, I was under the impression that you were straight."

"Ditto." Sara smirked, drawing an endearingly embarrassed laugh from Catherine.

"Well, surprise."

X x x

"I was wondering when you would find the time to grace my humble abode with your presence." Albert droned without bothering to tear his glance from his paperwork. He didn't need to look up to recognise the familiar shuffle of those footsteps.

"I know." Grissom murmured sheepishly, "I'm sorry, I've been … preoccupied."

"How's your wife?" The question was born of genuine concern, but there was a touch of venom in the coroner's voice.

"She's getting there." He nodded. "I haven't had the chance to speak to her yet."

"She's your wife, Gil." Doc repeated pointedly. "You're her husband. You shouldn't have to make time to talk to her." Something about the coroner's tone of voice suggested he wasn't just talking about Sara's stay in the hospital.

"I know." Grissom cleared his throat, sinking onto a stool. "That's why I ended it."

He liked Doc Robbins. Four years he'd been gone, but sitting here right now in the man's remarkable presence it felt like he had never left.

"And you really think that's going to help her?" Albert clicked his way across the room, joining his friend at the bench. "Gil, her brother is in my drawer. And her mother is in a care facility. Right now, you're the only family she has."

Grissom cocked his head to the side, recalling his first sight of Sara in the hospital; flanked by her teammates.

And Catherine, fussing around her injured co-worker like a tigress tending to her cub.

"No, I'm not." He countered softly. "Sara has all the family she needs."

X x x

"There was something I've always wanted to ask you." Catherine cocked her head to the side, cutting through the silence. "You remember when you were going to leave, and Grissom sent you a plant to convince you to stay."

"Yeah?" Sara frowned. "What about it?"

"You didn't stay because of that plant, did you?"

"No." She mumbled, spinning Rick's ring around her wristband. "I stayed because you begged me to. And I was slightly worried that if I said no, you were going to steal my car keys and barricade me in the lab."

A bright laugh bubbled out of Catherine, a sound that brought delight to Sara's ears. It didn't need to be said that there was still a lot for them to discuss, but the tension from earlier had dissolved somewhat.

"No." Cat drawled teasingly. "That was plan B."


	24. I wished the morrow

**Hi guys, thanks for being so patient with me. Hopefully updates will pick up again soon now that things are settling down again**

**Hope you like this one :)**

**x x x x**

He couldn't help but smile at the endearing sight before him. It had always made him chuckle to come home to a mass of blankets, pillows and comforters; somewhere underneath which lay his snoozing wife.  
Needless to say, she did not like to be cold.

And even now, with only the flimsy hospital blankets for a nest, she had managed to curl herself under them until there was no sign of her but a small mound in the middle of the bed.

Creeping into the room, he perched on the edge of the mattress and rested his hand on the bump.

He felt her stir beneath this new weight and, after a moment of shuffling, two dark eyes peeped up at him from beneath the covers.

"Hi." She squeaked, shuffling awkwardly out of her cocoon.

"Hi." He echoed hoarsely, scanning her features. The stark white bandage around her head had been replaced by a large square of gauze covering just the injury. It still looked garish and jarring against her pale skin, but not as bad as it had been. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay." She nodded, pulling her knees up to her chest beneath the blankets. "I'd ask you the same thing, but I know you've already seen Catherine."

The flippant comment drew a surprised laugh from him and she smiled at the familiar sound. It had been a long time since she had heard his laugh. Or his voice, for that matter.

"Yeah, I don't think I'm her favourite person right now." He agreed, all the humour draining from his voice. "But then, I can't really blame her. I deserve it."

"What for?" Sara shook her head, not following his train of thought. He gestured weakly towards her, as if that was answer enough.

"Sara, everything that's happened between us … I'm sorry." He murmured sheepishly. "I didn't handle it well."

"No." She agreed light-heartedly. "But then, I don't think either of us did."

"I shouldn't have ended things over the phone." He continued. "That was … cold. I just … I didn't know how to face you. I knew you would be hurt."

"I knew." She corrected softly, holding out her hand and waiting for him to take it. "I think I've known for a while now, deep down. I just didn't want to admit it."

"I'm sorry." He offered with an apologetic shrug, rubbing small circles on the back of her hand with the calloused pad of his thumb. Her skin was always so soft compared to his, so delicate. Sometimes, he felt like he might hurt her if he so much as touched her too hard.

"For what?" There was no venom or anger in her voice, just resignation and acceptance. They didn't need to say it. It was nobody's fault.  
It was just over.

He gave her an understanding nod, a small smile tugging at his lips as he reached up to stoke her bruised face with the back of his hand.

"I guess it just wasn't meant to be." He sighed remorsefully.

"Thermite." She murmured, sending him a sly smile; knowing that he would understand her meaning.

X x x

Despite the sadness in her eyes as he walked away from her, he actually felt better about the whole thing. That conversation had been a long time coming and it felt refreshing to get a few things out in the open. He would always love Sara, that would never change. But this was for the better, for both of them.

Placing a poignant hand on the closed door, he dropped his head and turned to leave when a familiar set of legs appeared in his line of sight.

"Oh." Catherine blinked, meeting his gaze. "Hey."

"Hi." He cleared his throat, shuffling his feet awkwardly on the spot.

"You, uh, you've spoken to her?" She checked, flicking her eyes briefly to the door.

"Yeah." He nodded. "Yeah, we've talked."

For a long moment, neither said a word; but the look that passed between them spoke volumes. It was a look filled with years of friendship and undying loyalty, but also with sorrow; for they both knew that this may well be the last time they crossed paths.

Eventually, Grissom took a step closer to his best friend with a pleading look in his blue orbs.

"Take care of her for me, Catherine." He said softly. "Don't hurt her like I did."

She opened her mouth to speak, to offer him the promise he so desperately needed to hear, but nothing came out. She had been waiting for him to show some sign of sadness at the breakdown of his marriage. She'd begun to think that he didn't even care.

But seeing the heartbreak written all over his face, it was clear that this was tearing him up inside more than anyone had realised.

He truly did love Sara. That's why he had to leave her.

Offering a meek nod, she stepped aside to let him leave.

He sloped down the empty corridor, his head hung and his shoulders hunched; as if trying to make himself as small as possible. Protecting himself. Inside the room, Sara was mirroring his defensive posture as she curled against the pillows.

Catherine's heart tightened at the sight of her two best friends, both so lost in their own pain. She had known Gil long enough to know that he would deal with this in his own way – by immersing himself in his work, probably. There wasn't much she could do for him now, except leave him alone to build himself back up.

But maybe she could still heal Sara.

X x x

"He looked pretty cut up." Sara acknowledged sadly. "I didn't really know what to say to him." She paused, casting a glance up at her friend's face. "Is that weird?"

"No, honey." Cath sent her a comforting smile, stroking her hair. "It's not weird."

Sara had been unusually contemplative today, so Cath decided it was best to just let her talk rather than attempt to guide the conversation.

"I feel like I've hurt him, with everything that's happened lately."

"What?" The older woman frowned, not entirely following. "You mean with Taylor Wynard?"

"Yeah." She hummed. "I know we weren't together anymore and it's not like I set out that night to meet someone, but…"

"Sara, hon," Cath cut off her rambling with a firm hand on her arm. "You didn't do anything wrong. You waited ten years for Gil to make up his mind. And when he finally did, you still ended up sleeping alone every night." She paused, licking her lips as she considered her next words carefully. "No one can blame you for looking for comfort elsewhere."

"We … I didn't…" Sara stuttered, a defensive scowl marring her face. "I didn't sleep with him." She managed to get out at last.

"It doesn't matter." Cath assured her, oddly blasé about the statement. "My point is, Grissom walked away from you. He can't judge you for seeking affection elsewhere, regardless of what form that might be in."

She moved closer, wrapping an arm around Sara's back. She could feel the girl's hot skin beneath her hand and resisted the urge to move it, despite her old feelings of lust beginning to bubble in the pit of her stomach. She had always defied the temptation to touch Sara, for this very reason. It was dangerous.

"In all the years since we met, I've never known you to put yourself first." She continued, clearing her throat. "Maybe now it's time you do."

"What are you saying?" Sara frowned, almost oblivious to her colleague's fingertips dancing in small patterns up and down her spine.

"I'm saying," Cath breathed, tipping her head up to the ceiling, "that you don't have to feel guilty. And whatever happens with this guy, or anyone for that matter, is no one's business but your own."

Deciding that she had given her troubled friend enough to think about for one day, she released her and stood up.

"Don't stress yourself out." She warned, leaning down to drop a kiss into Sara's hair. She let her lips linger for a moment longer, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair and a sick feeling of guilt settled in her stomach.

She genuinely believed everything she had just said to Sara was true; but she couldn't help wondering whether part of it was motivated by her own implausible hope that Sara would fall for her instead.

Even if, by some miracle, that did happen, what then? It wasn't like they could put the last few months behind them and run off into the sunset together.

X x x

"I'm going to see Sara this afternoon." Greg interrupted Nick's musings, clearing his throat. "Maybe you could come with me, if you want?"

The Texan lifted his head from his paperwork, barely sparing his young colleague a glance.

"Maybe. I've got a lot to do here." He muttered, gesturing half-heartedly to the measly stack of documents.

"You haven't spoken to her yet, since she woke up." Greg pointed out, refusing to take the hint. "She wants to see you." He added quietly, putting on his best pitiful voice.

Nick stilled, his eyes drifting briefly towards the ceiling.

"I don't know what to say to her." He exhaled at last, resting his elbows on the table. "I messed up so much lately. I wasn't there for her."

"She doesn't need you to say anything." Greg pushed himself off the doorframe and ambled towards the desk, making himself comfortable in the chair opposite. "She just wants to know you're there for her. She thinks you're still angry with her."

"What?" Nick frowned, leaning back in his seat and tossing his pen onto the folder he'd been pretending to read. It bounced, scoring a line across the page before spinning onto the floor. "No, of course I'm not angry with her. I'm angry with myself."

"Well it's no good telling me that. You need to tell her."

"How can I?" He groaned, sweeping a hand over his cropped hair. "She was lying there, all broken and I was off…"

"Throwing a tantrum?" Greg offered, flashing a grin at the sarcastic look he received.

"Yeah, I guess." Nick acknowledged at last with an uncomfortable shrug. The truth was, he wanted nothing more than to see Sara right now. He wanted to hold her and tell her that he was going to fix everything.

But he didn't know if that's what she wanted to hear.

"What time are you going?" He asked after several minutes of silence.

"About 1." Greg shrugged. "I figure she should be awake by then."

"Yeah." Nick hummed, stretching out in his chair and resting his hands on his stomach. "Yeah, okay. Maybe we could take her something; you know, to cheer her up."

Greg's lips spread into a mischievous grin, a sure-fire sign that he already had something in mind.

"I was hoping you'd say that."


	25. Soul with sorrow laden

**I don't know how many times I've said this already but thank you again for the reviews and messages **** :) You guys rock!**

**Also, the jokes about Lennon and George are references to The Beatles :)**

**x x x x**

Despite all of his infinite wisdom, he would never understand why the only thing you needed always sank to the bottom of the drawer.

"Hey," a cheerful voice intruded on his private mutterings. "You lost something?"

"Yeah, my key card." Russell grumbled, abandoning the search for the time being and straightening up as Finn wandered into the office.

"I heard the boys are going to see Sara at the hospital today." She hummed, sidling up to the desk and smoothly extracting his evasive key card from beneath a stack of paperwork.

"Oh, thank you." He accepted it gratefully, slipping it protectively into his pocket. "Yeah, they are. It's about time, too."

"You seen her yet?"

"Yeah, I went down this morning with Doc Robbins." He answered, sinking heavily into his faux-leather chair. "She was half asleep, but we talked for a bit. She's doing okay." He nodded confidently, shooting Finn a questioning look. "What about you, how are you doing?"

"I'm okay." She assured him, sounding much more assured than last time he had asked that question. "I called my mom the other day."

"Really?" The boss drawled, quirking an eyebrow. He knew well enough that Jules and her mother had a tumultuous relationship at the best of times and a mute one at the worst. "How did that go?"

"Oh, the usual." She threw a hand out to the side as she began wandering around the office and examining each unusual ornament in turn. "That I don't call often enough, am I eating right, am I taking care of myself."

They shared a small chuckle at the typical mothering actions. That was the same routine that Barbara went through every time she spoke to their kids. It didn't matter how old or independent they got, they were still her babies.

Finn sobered up again, a familiar sadness filling her eyes. "It just made me realise something." She sighed, finally tiring of her pacing and dropping onto the couch. "Sara probably never had that. I mean, she's the one taking care of her mom. No one's there to take care of her."

"True," DB hummed, settling back into his chair. "But, you know, she's got Catherine. She looks out for her."

"Yeah." Finn sat forwards, resting her elbows on her knees as a sly smirk spread across her lips. "But I don't think that's out of maternal instinct."

"What do you mean?" The man frowned, oblivious to the cause of her obvious amusement.

"Come on DB," She laughed, throwing her head back. "Isn't it obvious? I mean, Catherine beat Sara's _husband_ to the hospital. What does that tell you?"

X x x

Nick peered around the door, attempting not to make a sound.

However, Sara's fast eyes caught the movement and a bright smile graced her face as she promptly discarded the magazine she had been idly flicking through.

"Hey. I thought you were avoiding me." She beamed as he straightened up and shuffled bashfully into the room.

"No, of course not." He smiled, wrapping her into a tentative hug. "I've just been … I've been an idiot." He sighed, pressing a kiss to her temple before releasing her and sinking into the chair. "I'm sorry, I should have come sooner."

"It's okay." She smiled, reaching out a hand towards him.

He caught a glimpse of the ring on her wristband and chuckled softly as he stroked the piece of jewellery with his thumb. She smiled, shooting him a knowing look from beneath her lashes.

Oblivious to their tender moment, Greg had wandered in and continued to smirk silently at Sara from the foot of the bed until she looked up and acknowledged his presence.

"What?" She challenged, raising an eyebrow as his cocky grin.

"We brought you something." He sang, swaying from side-to-side with his hands behind his back.

"Well?" She pressed, attempting to lean around and see what he was holding. He teased her for a moment longer, enjoying himself far too much for her liking, before taking pity on her petulant glare.

"Tada!" He produced the teddy bear, holding it up to his face with a cheeky smile. "I found him while we were in your apartment."

"Lennon!" She beamed, holding out her hands for the soft toy. Grissom had never understood her desire to keep the childhood teddy in their bedroom, but thankfully he had never pressed the issue.

"You named him Lennon?" Nick barely suppressed a laugh. "As in John Lennon?"

"Shut up. I was a child of the 70s." She glowered, stroking the teddy's soft fur absently. He was tattered and torn, but all-in-all he was in remarkably good condition for a forty-year-old toy.

"So was I." Nick snickered. "But my bear was called George." He knew as soon as the words left his mouth that he shouldn't have said that.

"Aw!" Greg spluttered, poking his mate in the ribs. "Nicky had a teddy bear!"

X x x

"I can't believe he left without saying goodbye." David scowled, a look of pure confusion dancing in his eyes. "I mean, I can understand him not wanting to cause a fuss, that's not his style. But, me…"

"Hodges." Morgan looked up sharply from the microscope. "Will you give it a rest, please?"

He blinked at her, hurt flashing across his face. "I'm sorry? I didn't realise my outright abandonment was interrupting your concentration."

"Well, it is." She snapped. "And what's it to you whether Grissom left without saying goodbye. After everything that's happened recently, I'd think you guys would be glad to see the back of him."

"Gil Grissom is a master of science." David insisted, folding his arms defensively across his chest. "He made this lab what it is. Without him …"

"He ended his marriage over the phone." Morgan cut in, mirroring his stance. "He left Sara to deal with the fallout alone. And then, he waited four days before coming to Vegas while she was in a coma."

Hodges blinked again, not entirely sure how to reply to the onslaught of criticism directed at his mentor. He had to admit, now that he knew the details of their marriage ending, he was surprised by his friend's actions. But did it make him respect the man any less?

However, Morgan didn't give him the opportunity to respond as she turned on her heels and sashayed out of the room, snatching her results from the printer on the way.

In the hallway, leaving the slightly stunned trace tech in her wake, she almost mowed her own father down in her haste to leave.

"Hey, hi." She cleared her throat, falling into step with him. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine." He nodded, instantly picking up on her rattled demeanour and trembling voice. "Are _you_ alright?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." She nodded a little too eagerly, attempting to dart into another lab. However, his hand shot out to grip her arm and he tugged her into a quieter corner of the corridor.

"Morgan, what's wrong?" He asked, a concerned frown making its way across his brow.

"I'm fine." She repeated, softening her voice. "I'm just … knowing that he's still out there, it's kind of unnerving."

"Basderic?" Ecklie guessed. "Don't worry, we're going to find him. He won't hurt Sara again, he won't hurt anyone."

"I know." She nodded, taking a deep breath. "It just creeps me out to think that he's been watching her, following her every movement and she didn't even know."

"Hey, M." He gripped her shoulders, holding her gaze unwaveringly. Her eyes were so much like his own – it was about the only thing she had inherited from him. That and his weakness for greasy junk food. "Sara is going to be fine. And we're going to catch this bastard, if it's the last thing we do."

X x x

The sight that met Catherine upon her entrance to the room was one of familiarity and friendship defined. The boys were flanking Sara, with Nick having slung an arm around her shoulders. The brunette, for her part, looked surprisingly relaxed as she settled against the Texan's shoulder.

"Hey boys." Cath grinned, making her presence known before she approached the bed and slid between them to press a kiss to Sara's forehead. She noted the bear, perched happily in Sara's lap, and tapped its head lightly.

"Shop out of grapes, was it?" She quipped, earning her a disgruntled look from the patient, who clutched it tighter.

"Well, you know what they say: 'Every bear has a woman who loves him'." Nick chuckled, although the joke washed right over Catherine.

"Is that what you tell George?" Greg teased. "Or is he more of a 'Love comes to everyone' kind of bear?"

"Travelling Wilbury bear." Sara chimed in, drawing a jovial laugh from the men and an even more perplexed look from the blonde.

As the laughter died down, Catherine disregarded the conversation as a private joke and sent Nick a meaningful look.

Sensing that she had something she wanted to say to Sara in private, he cleared his throat and extracted himself carefully from the bed.

"Hey Greg, we ought to head off." He nodded pointedly towards the door. Greg scowled at his watch, not understanding the rush, until he caught a raised eyebrow from Catherine and nodded in understanding.

"Oh yeah, we have that … thing." He mumbled, pressing a quick kiss to Sara's cheek and tapping Lennon on the nose before scuttling to the door at Nick's heels.

"Yeah, that." Nicky rolled his eyes. "You take care darling, I'll see you tomorrow."

He sent Cath a sly wink on his way out, although not sly enough to get it past Sara.

"Well, that was subtle." She hid a smirk, meeting Cath's gaze. The blonde laughed, settling herself on the bed. "I'm guessing you wanted to talk to me."

"Yeah, I know that they're letting you out in a couple of days and I wanted to talk to you before they did." Cath licked her lips, reaching up to touch Sara's forehead lightly. "I wanted to talk to you about this."

"Like I said, I don't remember doing it." Sara repositioned herself against the headboard, curling her legs beneath her.

"Sara, it's not so much what you did that's bothering me. It's the fact that you did it at all." Cath explained, inching closer. "After everything that happened, after what Jack did to you, you didn't call the team. You didn't call me, or even Grissom." She released a sad breath, dropping her gaze. "You went to the roof. That's … scary."

"I wasn't intentionally shutting you guys out." She murmured. "I just … I don't know, I wasn't thinking straight."

"I know, baby." Catherine took hold of her slender wrist, stroking it gently. "It's not your fault. I just want to understand what was going through your head."

"So do I." Sara sulked. "Honestly, I don't know. All I remember is going to the roof. After that…" she shrugged helplessly.

"What about before that, after what Jack did? You didn't call anyone for help then either. Finn, or Morgan?"

"I don't know." She shrugged again. "It wasn't a serious injury, I didn't want to cause a fuss."

Cath pursed her lips, shaking her head slowly.

"Honey, I'm not taking about you being shot. I know he hurt you."

Sara dropped her eyes in shame, causing Catherine to tighten her grip on the girl's hand.

"We know that he was ill, that he had schizophrenia." She continued softly. "We could have gotten him help."

Sara looked up, her eyes narrowing at her friend.

"What do you mean you 'could have'?" She asked. Catherine's cheeks paled as she realised her error. Anyone else wouldn't have picked up on the slip-up, but then Sara wasn't just anyone.

"Honey," she murmured, shifting position awkwardly as she attempted to think of an explanation quickly.

"Cat, where's Jack?" Sara asked, panic and fear flooding her trembling voice.

"Babe, please try to stay calm." Cath begged, moving her hands to grip the other woman's arms lightly. "After you left his hotel room, someone else went in and …" she trailed off, trying desperately to think of another way of phrasing this.

But there was no other way out; no way of sugar-coating this. She was going to have to tell Sara the truth.

The brunette appeared to be silently pleading with her, as if she already knew what was coming. "Jack's dead, honey. I'm so sorry."


	26. It's answer little meaning

**I know there's only three characters in this chapter, but fear not because the rest of the team will be back in the next one :)**

**x x x x**

To her surprise, Sara's only response was the gradual widening of her dark eyes. Catherine could almost see the words swirling around the brunette's mind, like sand caught up in the tide, before finally settling across her features.

"Why?" The pitiful voice was utterly heartbreaking and it made Catherine's whole body feel cold at the thought that she had been the one to cause that pain.

"Someone killed him." She attempted to clear her throat, but it still felt as dry as the Gobi desert. "We think they were trying to frame you."

"Why?" Sara repeated. The sad bewilderment was evocative of when Lindsey used to ask that same question about every little thing.

Why do people hurt each other?

Why did Catherine leave her every night to go to work?

Why was her daddy dead?

So many questions that she couldn't answer; questions that she herself still desired the answers to.

Why did someone try to frame Sara?

Why did Sara try to kill herself?

Why couldn't they stop this from happening? Why didn't they notice what was going on before it was too late?

Realising that Sara was still waiting for an answer, Catherine internally shook away the intruding thoughts.

"We think it was Ronald Basderic." She intuitively tightened her grip on Sara's arms at the mention of his name, but thankfully the girl made no attempt to shrug her off.

"Bas… Edie's Basderic?" She stuttered helplessly. "He … he killed Jack?" It was clear from the confusion in her eyes that none of this was really sinking in yet, so Catherine decided it was best not to push the issue right now. After all, Sara was still on a high dose of morphine and her current thoughts were probably incoherent, at best.

"We're dealing with it, okay." She promised softly. "We're going to catch him. You just have to trust us."

Sara nodded numbly, not even contesting the plea.

"How am I going to tell my mom?" She hiccupped, more to herself than to Catherine.

"We can do that if you like?"

"No, no it should come from me." Sara shook her head, silent tears spilling down her bruised cheeks unnoticed. "He, I … he was getting his life together. He wanted to make things right."

"I know, baby." Cath sighed, carefully coaxing her into a hug. She felt Sara's tears fall onto her neck and held her tighter, rubbing comforting circles on her back. Through the paper-thin hospital gown, she could feel every shuddering breath and every inch of hot skin, blazing beneath her touch.

It was probably the most physical contact they had ever shared and at any other time she would have been fighting the surge of lust coursing through her system right now; but with her breathless sobs and trembling body, it was impossible to feel anything more than compassion for her distraught friend at this moment.

X x x

"I don't know about this?" Nick shuffled his feet across the doormat, twisting his hands anxiously as he sloped in behind her.

"What?" Cath shrugged, tapping in the alarm code and sashaying into the room as if she had lived here all her life. "Grissom gave me the keys, it's not like we're breaking and entering. Besides, I thought you guys had already searched the place once."

"We did." Nick agreed uncomfortably. "But that was looking for evidence to help her. This feels … intrusive."

"Look." Cath dropped her bag at her feet and swung around to face him, placing her hands on her hips. "We all agreed that Sara shouldn't be on her own right now. You guys are all working full time, Grissom's gone. So, I'm the only one who can stay with her while she recuperates." She pointed out. "There's enough room here and it'll save me living out of a hotel room for the next few weeks."

"So why do I have to be here?" He scowled, glancing around the home as if someone was going to appear from nowhere and demand an explanation for their uninvited presence.

"You're going to help me clean this place up before Sara gets out." She smiled brightly. "Since you guys ransacked the place last time you were here."

Having made her case, she picked up her bag and made her way through to the bedroom. Sara would be coming out of hospital tomorrow, so she wanted to get situated before then. The younger woman was thus far unaware of this arrangement; but given her state when Cath left her, she would probably be glad of the company.

"So, you're planning on staying for a while then." Nick hummed, attempting to sound blasé. However, the act fell flat. Catherine's head popped around the doorframe, one eyebrow raised.

"You trying to get rid of me already, Stokes?"

"No, of course not." He chuckled, ambling towards the bedroom where she had vanished once again. "It's just that you don't have to. You know, if you wanted to get back to work, we can take care of Sara."

"Like you took care of her last time I left her in your charge?" She was joking, clearly, but there was a touch of venom in her voice that he couldn't fail to pick up on.

He acknowledged her comment with a despondent sigh and dropped his gaze to the floor in shame.

"Look, Nicky, I know that Sara's going to be okay." Catherine discarded her bag on the bed for the time being and moved past him towards the kitchen; where she helped herself to a bottle of water from the fridge and twisted the cap off, taking a long swig to sooth her throat. "I just … I feel like I abandoned her once already. I don't want to do it again."

"Yeah, I know how that feels." He nodded glumly, sliding onto a stool at the breakfast bar and dropping his head onto his folded arms. "I wish I'd noticed what she'd been going through earlier. Her marriage, her brother … her mom. She's had a lot to deal with and we just … we missed it."

Catherine rested her elbows on the counter opposite him, passing the bottle between her hands idly as she spoke.

"I suppose we ought to start planning for Jack's funeral. Sara's not going to be able to do it on her own, not in her condition."

"Yeah, yeah Greg and I can look into that." Nick straightened up and cleared his throat, glad to have a practical task to focus on. "You know, it still scares me how close we came to losing her." He swallowed hard around the lump that had appeared in her throat. "It could be her … her funeral we need to plan."

Putting her drink aside, Cat reached across the counter to grip his hands firmly.

"She's okay, Nicky." She promised, softening her voice. "We slipped up, but we got her back. We can protect her from now on."

The words sounded eerily familiar. They were the same comforting words of hope she had uttered to him as they watched the helicopter carry Sara to the hospital after her ordeal in the desert.

"Yeah, I know." He sighed, taking a deep, calming breath. "You know what else has been bothering me about this whole thing, with her family? Why didn't we ever know about it?" He paused, eyeing Catherine suspiciously from beneath his lashes. "Why didn't you ever tell us?"

"Tell you what? That Sara was in care?" She choked out an unexpectedly harsh laugh. "Why the hell should I? It wasn't my place to discuss it. It still isn't!"

"How many cases did we work involving foster care? And she never mentioned it, not once?"

"She's a private person." Cat shrugged, resuming her previous fidgeting with the water bottle. "She doesn't like to talk about these things."

"Yeah, but we're her family. She should be able to trust us with stuff like this."

"You don't like to talk about what happened to you as a child." She pointed out gently. "You only told me because I pushed you to."

"Yeah, but…"

"But what?" She challenged. "Nick, Sara's childhood is nothing more than a bad memory to her. She doesn't bring it up because she doesn't like to think about it. And given when she did recently, that's probably for the best."

"What do you mean?" He frowned, leaning forward with intrigue. He had to admit, it was surprising just how well Catherine seemed able to read Sara. He had always been under the impression that the Californian CSI was as much as mystery to everyone else as she was to him.

"Her brother coming back into her life, it's obviously stirred up a lot of ghosts." Catherine shrugged as if it was obvious. "We already know that he abused girls when he was a teenager; how do we know he didn't do the same to Sara when she was a kid?"

Nick's face paled, indicating that that thought hadn't even crossed his mind until now.

"She was trying to help him. And he hurt her." The blonde continued, lowering her voice. "She told me that when she went home that morning, she had a nightmare. That's why she went outside, that's how she ended up on the roof."

"So, she jumped because of a nightmare?"

"She doesn't remember." Cath pursed her lips. "But it wouldn't surprise me. She'd just been through an awful ordeal, she was freaked out. She didn't feel like she could turn to anyone in her life. She was drugged out of her mind on zolpidem … maybe she just wanted it all to stop."

Nick fell quiet for a few minutes, turning Catherine's theory over in his head. He hated to admit it, but it made sense.

After he was abused by his babysitter, he went through a stage of nightmares too. And sometimes he wanted nothing more than to just run away. To outrun all of the bad thoughts until they were nothing more than a fading memory.

Letting his eyes drift closed for a moment, he found himself stood outside CSI, staring up at the roof the night of Sara's accident. It was that brief time of morning when the sky was a mix of every colour of the rainbow and the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon. He could picture it now, as crisp as the wind had been that fateful day. The imposing structure of the lab overshadowing the parking lot, the thick clouds lined by the fluorescent lights of The Strip.

And the sight of Sara, running towards the edge of the roof and tumbling over the side. For one impossible moment she appeared to be floating, suspended in mid-air, as if some angel was holding her in place. Then the fell, like a stone dropped by a sky-bird, with a deafening crack that he could still hear in his darkest moments.

Maybe Catherine was right. Maybe Sara had simply been trying to outrun her memories, like he had tried and failed in doing so many times.

Only she did outrun them, straight off the edge of a building.


	27. Quaint and curious volume

**Hi guys, sorry for the ridiculously long gap between updates. **

**But, I have good news! My university dissertation is complete! And you know what this means … more time for writing :D x  
**

**x x x x**

Her stomach lurched involuntarily the instant she peered into the room, as flashes of Sara's milky skin infiltrated her vision and burned themselves into her memory.

The brunette had her back to the door as she attempted feebly to fight her way into her clothes, muttering to herself in frustration as she did so. She had done well so far, but appeared to have come unstuck with the shirt.

With a coy smile, Catherine slipped into the room unnoticed and crept up behind her.

Sara continued to curse under her breath, oblivious to the fact she was being observed even when Catherine cleared her throat softly just behind her ear.

It was only when a pair of warm hands came to rest on the sides of her slim stomach that she realised she wasn't alone. Jumping, she clutched her shirt to her chest and threw a suspicious glance over her shoulder.

"Just me." Cath grinned, releasing her and hopping onto the bed.

"What are you doing here?" Sara asked, relaxing a little. "I thought one of the guys was picking me up."

Catherine pursed her lips, trying and failing to disguise a smile.

"You'll understand, later." She stated enigmatically. "Anyway, I came early to see if you needed any help getting ready … but I can see you're doing fine."

Sara sent her a disparaging look at the sarcastic tone, resuming her previous task. She did, however, allow Catherine to assist in sliding it over her injured shoulder when it was blatantly obvious that she couldn't do it herself.

"Are you okay?" Cath asked, despite Sara's desperate attempts to hide her pain.

"Yeah, I'm fine." The brunette sank her teeth into her lower lip. "It's … it's fine."

Moving her hand from Sara's shoulder down to her wrist, Catherine attempted to catch her eye.

"Honey, this all started because you wouldn't talk to us." She pointed out carefully. "What's wrong?"

"I'm okay." Sara reassured her, offering a small smile. "Morphine withdrawal I guess."

The older woman nodded slowly, not entirely convinced that that was all it was but deciding not to press it for now.

After all, Sara had been on some pretty powerful pain meds for the last few days. She probably hadn't felt the full effects of her injuries yet.

"You've got a prescription to collect." She reminded her. "We can get it on the way out."

Sara mumbled something that the Cath was sure she didn't want to hear. Thankfully, Sara never got the opportunity to repeat it even if she'd wanted to, as the moment was interrupted by a soft cough from the doorway.

"M'lady," Greg dipped his trilby hat, shooting Sara a wide grin. "You're ride's here."

Sara smiled, sharing a knowing look with Catherine.

"He insisted." The strawberry-blonde shrugged, grabbing Sara's bag from the bed before the injured woman could take it herself. "Come on; let's get you out of here before they change their minds and try to keep you in for another week."

This time Catherine heard Sara's response clear as day and shared a bright laugh with Greg at the flippant remark.

X x x

"Sara's getting out today, right?" Morgan inquired, cutting through the calm silence that had befallen them.

"Yeah. Cath and Greg have gone to pick her up." Nick murmured, only half-listening as he continued to scrutinise his store-bought lunch as if it was a crucial piece of evidence. He had been trying to eat healthier recently – his girlfriend's idea – but he was starting to regret agreeing to it now.

Morgan nodded slowly, licking her lips in thought.

"Finn thinks there's something going on between Catherine and Sara." She posited as casually as she could, before taking a large bite of her burger.

Nick stilled, his brown eyes flicking up and darting across to table towards her.

"Something … like what?" He pressed sceptically.

"Well … you know?" She raised her eyebrows pointedly. "She thinks that Cath has a thing for Sara."

"What?" The Texan spluttered, his unappetising lunch falling forgotten back into the plastic wrap. "No way."

"I don't know, Cath hasn't left Sara's side since she got here." Morgan hummed, leaning back in her chair and suppressing a smile. "And now she's living with her… you have to admit that it's a little odd."

"Cath's just worried about Sara, like all of us are." He insisted, reaching across the table and stealing a french fry from his colleague's meal. To hell with his diet, he'd start again tomorrow. "She cares about her."

"Yeah, well there's caring about someone and there's 'caring' about them." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "And Catherine more-than-cares about Sara. She…"

"Excuse me." A sheepish voice called from the door. The CSIs both turned towards the hallway, smiling in greeting at the coroner.

"Hey Doc." Nick drawled, shooting Morgan a meaningful look in the hopes that she would keep her theories to herself for a few minutes. "What's up?"

"I made a few calls." The older man shuffled into the room and hooked his cane onto the edge of the table, digging into his pocket for something. "Nothing's organised yet but when Sara makes a decision it should be fairly simple to put something in place."

"Great, thanks." Nick straightened up, accepting the list of names the doctor finally handed him. "I'll see what she wants to do."

"What's this for?" Morgan frowned, rising from her seat and moving around the table to see what was going on.

"Nick's sorting out the funeral arrangements." Doc explained. "I made a few calls to some mortuaries and funeral parlours, just putting the feelers out there."

"Have you released the body yet?" She asked, resting her hands on the back of Nick's chair.

"No, not yet." Al shook his head soberly. "I figured that until Sara knows what she wants, he should stay here."

It was not stated outloud, but something about the gesture seemed almost protective. Jack may not have been 'family' to the CSIs, but his sister certainly was and that was close enough for Albert.

"Yeah, thanks Doc." Nick nodded gratefully, slipping the note into his wallet so he wouldn't lose it. "I'll get back to you when I can."

"No rush." He assured him with a firm pat on the shoulder, before collecting his cane and clicking back to the door.

He paused in the threshold, turning back to them with a deadpan expression.

"For the record, I agree with Morgan."

X x x

"Will you stop fussing, woman. I'm not an invalid!" Sara snapped, batting away the blonde's hand when she attempted for the third time to re-adjust the sofa cushions behind her.

"Sorry." Cath retracted her hand with an unapologetic smile. "I just want to take care of you."

"I don't need taking care of." Sara shifted, making herself comfortable without any help from her friend. "I certainly don't need a live-in nurse. And thank you for the warning about that, by the way."

"I knew you'd say no." Cath grinned, placing a hot drink onto the coffee table and settling herself on the couch. At the dark scowl she received, she slapped Sara's knee playfully. "Don't give me that look; it was your husband's idea."

Sara rolled her eyes, taking a deep breath.

"He's not my husband anymore. Remember?"

"I know." Cath threw a dismissive hand out to the side. "I'm sorry; it's just force of habit." She paused, cocking her head to the side in thought for a long minute. "You know, I was just getting to grips with the idea of you two being married as well."

"Well I'm terribly sorry to disappoint you." Sara mumbled, dropping her gaze into her lap.

"Hey, come on." Cath breathed nonchalantly, stretching out her body until she felt all her joints click. "When it's over, it's over. There's no sense pretending otherwise."

Sara sent her an odd look, turning awkwardly to face her. "You're handling this better than I expected."

"Hey, I've been there." Catherine chuckled softly. "I know the last thing you need is other people shoving their opinions onto you. It's your marriage, only you two can decide what's for the best."

"Well, something tells me that not everyone is going to be as understanding as you."

"Like who?" Cath frowned. So far, everyone she had spoken to seemed to be on Sara's side on the matter. Even the new receptionist at the lab had passed on her best wishes.

Sara chewed on the inside of her cheek, a contemplative look on her face.

"Well, one name comes to mind straight away.

X x x

Hodges cast a glance back into the living room. Elisabetta and Ecklie were still on the couch, discussing something Italian-related no doubt.

Judging by the look on Conrad's face, he could take or leave the Mediterranean bombshell. Olivia Hodges, however, was decidedly not impressed with her son's choice of fiancé and was being quite vocal about it.

With a heavy sigh, he turned back to his mother, her hands still submerged in the sink as she washed up the remains of their weekly 'family' meal.

"Why did dad leave?"

She froze, her features a picture of shock as she turned to blink at him.

"What?" David hadn't asked about his father since he was twelve years old. And even then, when those big sad eyes had stared up at her pleadingly, she hadn't known what to say. But at least she had known then what he was so scared of hearing – that it was his fault.  
"Why are you asking about your father?" She asked, drying her hands on a cloth and facing him properly.

"Just answer the question, mom." He rolled his eyes. "Why did he used to go away all the time?"

"David … your father was a very busy man." She reached out to stroke his arm, desperately searching his face for some clue as to why he had brought this up now. "His research took him away a lot."

"Did it make you sad, when he used to go away?"

"Of course. I was lonely." She hummed, placing her hands on the counter. She remembered all the nights, spent alone and despondent as she waited up by the phone. Finally, she shook the memory away and turned to him with a wide smile. "But, I had you to keep me company."

"Yeah." He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his cloudy blue eyes. "Yeah, you did."

"And we got by alright, didn't we?" It was posed as a rhetorical question, but he could tell that there was an ounce of hope in her voice too; like she needed to hear that his paternal issues were not a result of her parenting.

He smiled again, more genuine this time in an attempt to assuage her fears.

"Yeah mom. We did fine."


	28. Demon's that it dreaming

**Getting darker now :) Hope you guys are still enjoying it**

**x x x x**

Emerging from the bathroom, her hair still dripping as she fastened the buttons on her shirt, Catherine stilled in the doorway and tipped her head to the side.

It was faint, but she could definitely hear the undeniable sound of crying emanating from Sara's bedroom.

"Sar?" She rapped lightly on the door, poking her head inside. "Sara?"

The brunette was sat on the edge of the bed, facing the mirror and jumped at Catherine's entrance.

"Hey." She squeaked, wiping hurriedly at her eyes; although the attempt only served to exasperate the redness surrounding them.

"What's wrong?" Cath moved closer and placed a firm hand on the small of her back. "Are you in pain?"

Sara shook her head, although strictly speaking that was a flat out lie. She _was_ in pain, but that wasn't the reason for her current breakdown. Her eyes flicked back to the mirror, seeking out her own reflection again. It was the first time she had gotten a proper look at the injuries she had inflicted on herself. Bruises, scrapes, scars … a permanent reminder of her own stupid mistakes.

"I'm sorry." She hiccupped, furiously trying to avoid Catherine's compassionately questioning stare.

"It's okay." Cath perched on the edge of the bed and wrapped an arm awkwardly around her back, pulling her as close as the position would allow.

"I'm sorry I'm such a screw-up." Sara continued. "I messed everything up."

"Honey, it's okay." Catherine reassured her softly. "It's not your fault."

"It is. I should have told you." She murmured tearfully. "I wish I could turn back the clock and change it all."

"Sara, listen to me." Catherine gripped her arms and carefully turned the younger woman around to face her. "It's not too late. We can still fix this. You just have to let us help you."

"It seems so simple now." The younger woman continued as if she hadn't spoken, shaking her head slowly in loss.

"Everything looks simple in hindsight." Cath licked her lips, drawing small circles on Sara's hip with her fingertips. "We can make it simple again; you just have to trust us."

X x x

With a sad sigh, Jim dropped the phone back into its cradle.

He had been trying to locate Ellie for several weeks now, with no joy. Wherever she was, so far she had managed to evade the police and the hospitals. He could only hope that was a good sign.

If she was even still in Vegas, something which he could not be sure of. For all he knew, she may not even be alive.

The aging detective sank into his chair, rubbing a tired hand over his worn face. These last few years had really made him feel his age. He couldn't move as fast or as far as he used to anymore. He certainly couldn't chase after a suspect on the run for longer than a few paces.

Not that he needed to. That was a job for the younger cops. As Captain, his job revolved mainly around pushing paper. He understood now why Grissom used to go to great lengths to avoid it.

He missed being in the field so much. He missed the excitement and the hostile banter involved with catching suspects.

He missed working so closely with the CSIs.

And lately – though he knew it was probably just his conscience playing tricks on him – he couldn't shake the thought that had he spent a little more time with Sara, he might have realised that something was wrong before it had gotten this far.

X x x

"We know that you were trying to help your brother." Cath near-whispered, her chin resting on Sara's shoulder from behind. "How did you find him?"

"He found me." The younger woman sniffed. She had calmed down considerably since Catherine had found her, but there were still a few crystal tears escaping from her eyes. "He called me one day, out of the blue. He said that he wanted to get clean."

"So, you called the care facility?"

"I thought that if I could get him into a program, like mom, it might keep him straight." She agreed sadly.

"But, you didn't tell your mom about your brother, did you?" Cath straightened up, dragging a hand through her fast-drying hair.

"No." Sara mumbled. "She hasn't seen him in years. I didn't want to get her hopes up in case it all fell through." She paused, tipping her head back towards the ceiling until she felt her neck emit a sharp click. "How am I going to explain everything to her?"

It was rhetorical, but Catherine couldn't have provided an answer even if one was expected.

How do you explain to a mentally-vulnerable woman that her son is dead, killed by the same man who nearly killed her daughter?

X x x

Finn stared blankly at the wall, absently tracing the small scars on the inside of her wrist.

They were barely visible to the naked eye, but she knew they were there. A constant reminder of the darkest time of her life.

She had cut herself before, as a teenager. But never like this. Never so intentionally. She had wanted to hurt herself that time. She had meant business.

It hadn't worked though. Not until a week later, when she downed half a tub of sleeping pills and woke up in hospital three days later; DB sat quietly at her bedside.

He hadn't judged her, or criticised her. He had just stared at her with those sympathetic blue eyes, so full of fear and disappointment.

She hated what she had done to herself, but she hated what she had done to him more.

She had blamed him. For firing her; for making her lose everything.

She realised now that he was not entirely responsible for her meltdown. Just like Grissom was not entirely responsible for breaking Sara.

Not that that improved his standings in Finn's eyes. She still didn't like him.

When DB had asked her to stay in Vegas, she hadn't been sure at first. Would she fit in here? Would she adapt to working in the desert? Some things had taken a while for her to get used to, but she had gelled with her colleagues pretty seamlessly.

In particular, she had taken an instant liking to Sara. The dark-haired CSI was sassy and smart, and not afraid to bend the rules in order to make a point.

But there was something else drawing her to the woman. Something that until now she had never managed to pinpoint.

It was a darkness inside her, one which they both shared. Depression. Seclusion.

She glanced down, her eyes tearing up at the familiar sight of her scars. No one here knew about them, except DB of course.

Maybe it was time to share a little part of herself with Sara. Maybe, if she was willing to give up some of her secrets, she might just be able to help her troubled friend.

X x x

Catherine narrowed her eyes at Sara, who was absently pushing food around her plate, but elected not to comment for once. It had taken long enough to convince Sara to eat something, she daren't push her any further just yet.

So instead she continued to watch the pensive brunette from her spot leaning against the counter, taking intermittent mouthfuls of her coffee as she scrutinised her old friend.

Sara had a fancy coffee machine, one with more functions than a coffee machine should need. It was unnecessary, and probably expensive, and Catherine loved it. She could have caramel lattes for breakfast, without ever leaving the house.

"Do you think they'll find him?"

The quiet question wasn't really directed at Catherine, it was more of an internal musing that made its way out, but it managed to snap Cath back from her thoughts all the same.

"Who?"

"Basderic."

"Oh," She sighed, placing her half-empty mug on the draining board and leaning across the breakfast bench to take Sara's fidgeting hands between her own. "Honey, I'm sure they're going to find him. He can't hide forever. And in the mean time, he's not going to get anywhere near you."

"How do you know that?" She asked warily.

Unexpectedly, Cath found herself picturing the photograph of little Sara that Laura Sidle had kept beside her bed. It was easy to forget sometimes, but Sara had been vulnerable and delicate once just like every else. She had been scared of the dark once.

"Because you're safe here." It was all she had to offer, but it seemed to be enough for now. Dropping her head, Sara retracted her hands and slipped off the stool, her long pyjamas trailing along the floor as she shuffled back to the bedroom.

Catherine had always told Lindsey that no one could hurt her inside her home. That home was a safe place.

But she had always known that it wasn't true. In fact, it was a known fact that most children died in their own home.

She had just wanted her to feel safe somewhere. And she wanted the same for Sara now.

But how could Sara feel safe in here, when this is where Basderic had targeted her. This is where it all began.

Until they found him, she truly wasn't safe.

X x x

He glanced down at the piece of paper, shaking in his trembling hand. Beads of sweat were building on every area of his body, cold and damp against his clammy skin. From the heat of the cramped space, or from fear, he didn't know; and he didn't really care to think about it too much.

Dialling the number on his disposable cell phone, he waited until the familiar voice echoed off the close walls.

"Have you done it yet?"

"I can't." The voice replied. "They've got her guarded. No one's getting anywhere near her without a badge or a medical degree."

There was a long pause as Ronald considered this information.

"So get one." He muttered at last, hanging up the phone.

He knew that they were on to him by now. He knew it as soon as he heard that she'd woken up. She would work it out, even if they didn't.

Not that it mattered too much. By the time they worked out what his true motive was, he would be in Mexico and they would be too late.

His intention had never been to frame the brunette.

No, he didn't want her behind bars. That didn't do him any good.

He wanted to destroy her whole world. One by one, he wanted to take away everything that mattered to her. Her marriage, her family, her friends … and finally, her life.

Her throwing herself off the roof had not been part of his plan, but it had played directly into his hands. Because now their guards were down.

The CSIs, they thought that she'd had a lucky escape. That she'd survived and they'd worked it all out.

They had no idea.

Unfortunately, now that they knew he was involved he'd had to resort to outside help. Not that that seemed to be working either. Clearly, his new partner was not the smooth operator he'd advertised himself as.

Never mind. If he couldn't do it, Ronald would just have to take care of matters himself.

Glancing down into his lap, he could just barely make out the weapon cradled in his lap and stroked it affectionately.

It made him grin with glee to picture it, his eyes alive in the dim light.

Laura, murdered by her daughter in a fit of panic.

And then Sara, shot with her own weapon. Poor, tormented Sara. After her earlier suicide attempt, it wouldn't be too hard to fool her colleagues into thinking that she was responsible for her own untimely death.

And then, finally, he could rest.

Put out the light, and then put out the light.


	29. A flirt and flutter

**Let me know what you think guys :)**

**x x x x**

One more plate … just one more plate and she had managed it, all by herself.

However, just as she was beginning to feel the first tingling of pride at her minor achievement, her body jolted with intense muscle spasms and she felt her legs give way.

The plate in her hand crashed to the floor beside her, shattering across the tiles along with the dying embers of her tiny success.

From her position slumped against the counters, she could only grit her teeth and pray that Catherine hadn't heard the calamity.

No such luck, however; as was evidenced by the hurried footsteps emerging from the bedroom.

"What happened?" The strawberry-blonde breathed, bursting into the room and landing on her knees beside her fallen friend.

"Nothing." Sara winced, attempting to pull herself back up using the counter tops and failing miserably. She fell again; landing inelegantly in Catherine's awaiting arms.

"What exactly were you trying to do?" The older woman asked, noting the plate smashed to pieces on the floor.

"Clean." Sara grimaced, sinking her teeth into her lower lip. "I was cleaning."

"Why?" Cath berated, her voice rising with incredulity. "That's why I'm here, so you don't have to clean."

"I'm fine." Sara growled, hauling herself to her feet in one swift movement. She gripped the counter firmly with both hands until her knuckles turned white, steadying herself lest she fall over again.

"Sara, you fell twenty feet onto concrete." Catherine pointed out exasperatedly, gripping her tightly by the arms and guiding her - well, more frogmarching really - back to the couch. "You're going to be in pain for a while, you need to rest."

"I don't want to rest." Sara sulked, dropping grudgingly onto the sofa. "I don't get it; I wasn't in this much pain at the hospital."

"Of course not," Cath shrugged, leaning down to rearrange the cushions until she was satisfied that the girl was well supported. "You were high as a kite on morphine." She paused, a thought suddenly crossing her mind. "Speaking of…"

"No." Sara groaned, knowing full well where this was going. And sure enough, when Catherine returned from the bathroom she had a little tub of painkillers clutched in her hand.

"You've barely taken any of these since you left the hospital." She noted with a suspicious scowl, eyeing the label through squinted eyes. "No wonder you're in pain."

"I don't need them." Sara turned away; although the sudden action caused her shoulder to twinge and, despite her best efforts, the pain flashed visibly across her face.

As tempting as it was to reprimand the stubborn woman, Cath couldn't help but take sympathy on her. She placed the pills on the coffee table and perched down beside them.

"You don't have to take them if you don't want." She began, softening her tone. "But if you're in pain, they might take the edge off a bit."

Sara turned to her, scrutinising her features for any sign that it was some kind of ploy.

"What I want," she licked her lips, sitting forward very slowly; "is to go back to work."

Catherine's scoff was pretty much the response she expected, but it still made her heart sink a little bit.

"I'm serious. I need to get back into it again."

"Honey, you've only been out of hospital for a week. You're in no fit state to be working."

"I can do paperwork." Sara pointed out hopefully.

"Damn, you must be desperate." Cat chuckled. At Sara's petulant pout, she placed her hands on the brunette's knees, dragging her thumbs over the denim encasing her long legs. "I tell you what," she hummed, tipping her head towards the ceiling. "Three more days, and you take your painkillers as prescribed; then we'll talk to DB about you going back part time. Deal?"

Sara raised an eyebrow, considering the offer for a long moment.

"Three days." She repeated. "Including today?"

"Starting tomorrow." Cath deadpanned without missing a beat.

Sara rolled her eyes, but agreed to the deal all the same.

Three days and pain meds.

Maybe if she slept through most of it, it would go quicker.

X x x

Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the long corridor and walked in wide, determined paces towards the room at the end.

"Excuse me." A voice called sharply from somewhere to his left. He had been expecting that.

Straightening up to his full height, he turned to the woman with a wide smile.

"Hi."

"Can I help you?" The short, bolshie woman asked testily, folding her arms across her chest.

"I'm here to see Laura Sidle." He flashed another smooth grin, attempting to sound blasé in the request.

"I'm sorry, that's not possible." The nurse answered easily. "Ms Sidle is unavailable at the moment."

"Okay," he nodded, casually casting a glance down the hall in an attempt to spot her room. "Well, I just came to see if she wanted anything – I'm a friend of her daughter's you see, and she's been injured recently so she can't get here herself."

The woman scrutinised him for a long moment. He was about the same age as Sara Sidle and he was obviously aware of her situation. He looked harmless enough. Still, she was under strict orders not to let anyone near Laura's room.

Picking up on her set jaw and unwavering stare, he flashed that smile again.

"I tell you what, how about I just pick some things up for her and leave them with you to pass on?"

"I suppose that would be okay." She agreed at last. "I presume you know the rules about what can be brought in?"

"Yeah, of course." He lied. "So, I'll be seeing you soon."

He shot her a wink on his way out, sailing back towards the doors with a satisfied smirk.

He hadn't seen Laura, but then he hadn't expected to.

But he had an in, and that was all he needed ... for now.

X x x

"Hi!" Morgan beamed, holding up a brown paper bag with a familiar deli logo on the front. "I brought bagels!"

Catherine stepped aside, letting her slide into the house.

"How's the patient?"

"Stubborn." Cath answered instantaneously, dragging a hand through her hair.

"I heard that!" The distinctive holler from the lounge brought a wide smile to Morgan's face as she meandered through the house towards the living room.

"Hey, I brought food." She greeted.

Passing the bag to Catherine, she leant down and wrapped Sara into a half-hug over the back of the sofa, nuzzling the side on her face affectionately.

"You look better." She observed, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"See." Sara smiled, sending Catherine a meaningful look.

"Don't encourage her, Morgan." The older blonde chastised from the kitchen as she dished the food out onto three plates. "She already thinks she's superwoman."

"I'm coming back to work." Sara added happily, ignoring the slight.

"Seriously, already?" Morgan blinked, accepting a plate and making herself comfortable between her colleagues.

Catherine cleared her throat, shooting Sara a dark glower.

"Alright, in three days I'm coming back." She amended, although it didn't wipe the smile from her face.

"Only if DB and Ecklie agree." Cath added, taking a large bite of her food.

"Well, I can't speak for Russell but I know dad will be happy to have you back." Morgan chipped in. "We've been so understaffed lately, it's unreal."

"See, they need me!" Sara gesticulated, causing her elbow to emit a loud click.

"Yeah, you're a real asset right now." Catherine drawled sardonically. "What with your chronic headaches and cement-mixer joints...what _will_ they do without you?"

"Says you!" Sara retorted easily. "If I recall correctly it wasn't my knees snapping like crackling last night."

Their banter was interrupted by amused chuckling from Morgan.

"What?" Cath asked, slightly affronted.

"Nothing." The young blonde attempted to clamp down on her laughter, offering a helpless shrug at their baffled frowns. "It's just ... you two."

Catherine and Sara exchanged a look.

"What?" Sara echoed, straightening up in her seat.

Another wave of giggles ripped through Morgan at their perfectly mirrored expressions of utter loss.

"You remind me of when my grandparents bicker ... you sound like an old married couple!"


	30. Uncertain rustling of each

"I'm not sure about this." DB took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes tiredly before replacing them on the bridge of his nose. "Are you sure? I mean there's no rush. You can take some more time off, rest up for a bit."

"I'm fine." She smiled politely, clamping down on her rising defences at the insinuation that she was too weak to return to work.

Russell sat back in his seat, flicking his gaze up to the other person in the room, waiting patiently by the shelves.

"What do you think about this?"

Sara looked up too, sending Catherine a pleading look. It was a look the strawberry-blonde had been on the receiving end of many times recently. She pursed her lips, fighting an internal battle with her own reservations.

"I think … she knows what she needs better than we do."

It wasn't a lie, exactly. She did believe that Sara wouldn't be so determined to come back to work if she didn't think it would help. But that didn't mean that she _should_ be coming back to work just yet.

DB nodded slowly, considering the proposal for a painfully long moment while the women waited with baited breath, watching a multitude of emotions cross his features.

"Alright." He agreed at last, tapping his chin with a pencil. "Alright, but simple cases only."

Sara smiled, pushing herself to her feet.

"We don't get simple cases." She pointed out, almost smugly; as she moved to the door as quick as her sore bones would allow before he could change his mind.

As she slipped into the hall, DB and Catherine shared a chuckle at her typical insolence.

"Well, she's back." He raised his hands in a small shrug, sinking back into his chair.

Catherine nodded silently, too lost in her own thoughts as she cast a casual glance around the office. He narrowed his eyes behind his lenses, scrutinising her carefully. He couldn't tell if she was trying to suss out what had changed in her absense, or just revelling in the familiarity of her surroundings.

"What about you? How are you doing?" He asked, softening his tone.

"Me?" She blinked, casting her internal musings aside. "I'm fine."

"You sure?" He pressed. "You look troubled."

"I'm okay." She assured him, her usually bright and confident smile nowhere in sight. "Just, take care of her for me will you?"

His gaze never wavered from hers as he answered swiftly and simply.

"Always."

X x x

"Hey," Greg greeted, shuffling into the locker room, edgy anticipation written across his face. "Have you heard the news?"

"What news?" Nick asked, shrugging a clean shirt on over his bare shoulders.

"Sara's coming back to work." The younger man answered, his chocolate brown eyes dancing somewhere between nerves and excitement. "She's starting back tonight."

"Seriously?" Finn frowned, making her presence known on the other side of the room. "Already? Isn't that a bit soon?"

"Well, Cath and Russell seem to think she's ready so…" he threw his hands out as if that was answer enough; although deep down he had to agree that this had come a little left field. Last time he'd seen Sara her face was still adorned in cuts and grazes, and even she had admitted that her muscles felt like they were encased in lead.

Before anyone else could offer their two cents to the unexpected information, a familiar figure graced the threshold with a bashful smile.

"Hi."

"Hey," Nick grinned. "So, it's true? You back on?"

"Yeah." She breathed, clasping her hands behind her back in an attempt to stop them from fidgeting. Usually when nerves got the better of her, she would begin to spin her wedding ring around her finger; but even that small relief was unavailable to her now.

Sensing her anxiety, Greg wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tugged her closer.

"I guess we can start to get things back to normal again, huh." He smiled, tipping his head against hers and pressing a sly kiss to her temple.

"Yeah." She hummed uncertainly, sinking into the protective embrace. She had missed Greg's hugs. They were warm, but not suffocating. She felt safe here, but it didn't make her feel any less under scrutiny from the rest of the team.

Finn, ever the intuitive one, picked up on the awkward atmosphere and cleared her throat in an attempt to diffuse the it.

"Hey, why don't you guys go see what DB's got for us?" She suggested brightly. "We'll catch you up." She waited until the men had gathered their things and slipped out before stepping closer to Sara.

The brunette released a breath, nodding in gratitude at her friend.

"Thanks." She smiled meekly.

Finn matched the expression, gesturing to the bench so they could both take a seat.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" She asked gently, taking Sara's hand between both of her own.

"Yeah," Sara breathed. "Yeah, I am. I want to be here." She glanced around the room, taking in the familiar settings. It was strange to think that the last time she was here she was to throw herself off the roof. Ordinarily this building represented security and comfort to her, but somehow she had managed to turn that security into a threat against herself.

Of course, she still didn't really remember doing it.

To be honest, she wasn't sure that she wanted to remember. She had spent her whole life trying to escape bad memories - maybe her amnesia was a blessing in disguise.

X x x

"Hey, Russell!" Ecklie hollered, jogging to catch him up.

"Hey Conrad." DB greeted, slowing his wide paces. "What's up?"

"I hear that Sara's back." The boss frowned, wringing his hands tensely as he fell into step with the taller man. "Is she ready?"

"Well that depends." DB pursed his lips coyly. "Do you want Sara's opinion or everyone else's?"

Ecklie laughed, nodding in understanding.

"I see." He hummed, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "And, you're alright with this?"

"We're going to keep an eye on her." Russell promised. "Don't worry; I won't let her do anything she's not ready for. I've got Finn and Nick keeping an eye on her tonight."

"Good." Conrad nodded, ever so slightly comforted by the news. "Keep me in the loop."

He started to drift down a separate corridor, but DB's booming voice held him back.

"Hey, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm …" Ecklie trailed off, dragging a hand over what remained of his hair. It had been thinning for years, but these last two years in particular seemed to have had dire results.

"I just don't know how we missed it." He answered uncomfortably at last. "I mean, I know _I _don't see Sara that often but I thought that _someone_ would have noticed before things could get this bad."

"Yeah, tell me about it." DB sighed, leaning against a glass wall behind him. Inside the lab he had chosen as his resting place, the technician glanced up and scowled briefly at the interruption before carrying on with his work. "That's been keeping me up for two weeks as well. But we're going to keep a closer eye on her now." Russell continued confidently.

"We don't really have a choice, do we?" Conrad pointed out. "It was a miracle she survived last time, I don't think we'll get lucky again."

"She'll be alright." DB reiterated, more to himself than Ecklie. "We've got her now; she's going to be fine. And who knows, maybe this is the best place for her – we're a strange, semi-functional little group, but we're still her family."

X x x

Finn cast a lazy glance across the room and smiled. Nick was meant to be searching through the victim's paperwork, but one sharp eye was fixed permanently on Sara, monitoring her every move through the window as she scoured the rear yard for evidence.

"She's not going anywhere, you know." The blonde commented lightly, getting his attention. He blinked, unaware that he was being observed himself.

"I know." He cleared his throat, making a point of fixing his gaze on the desk. However, it barely lasted a second before his dark eyes flicked back up to the window again, almost of their own will.

"Nick, she's fine." Finn chuckled, discarding her own evidence for the time being and wandering over to join him. From here, he had a pretty good view of the whole garden. There was nowhere Sara could go to evade his watchful eye.

"I just want to know where she is, that's all." Nick assured her. "It's for my own peace of mind; just give me that, please?"

She flashed him a knowing grin, offering a shrug of acceptance. He nodded bluntly in gratitude, returning to the task of pretending to read bank statements.

Opting for a more direct method of checking up on their colleague, Finn slipped outside and left Nick to continue his overprotective spying in peace.

"Hey." She called, squinting against the bright dawn sun. "How's it going?"

"Fine." Sara answered, not looking up. "I got shoeprints."

Finn placed a hand on her shoulder, using it for balance as she leant down to see the marks for herself.

"Looks like a man's, maybe a size twelve." She noted. "I'll get Hodges to compare them to the victim's footwear."

"Is Nick still staring at me?" Sara asked as she continued to carefully cast the prints.

"Yeah." Jules smiled, crouching down beside her. "He's just worried, that's all."

"I know." Sara muttered. "But it's very off-putting."

"I bet." The older CSI suppressed a smirk. She continued to watch Sara for a moment longer, scrutinising the concentrated features. Her scars were still plain to see, despite determined efforts to conceal them with makeup.

"You're going to be alright you know." She mumbled after a long moment. "I know it might not seem like it now, but you are."

Sara looked up, her dark eyes wary and narrowed.

"I know." She murmured at last, offering a small smile. "Thanks."

X x x

"Hey, what have you got for me?" She sailed into the trace lab, glad of the brief reprieve from the guarded glances she continually received whenever she set foot in the hallways.

Without looking up, Hodges handed her a print-out.

"The footwear marks did not match your victim." He stated simply. "And the substance you found in them was clay."

"Clay." She repeated. "Well, that might help narrow down a location. Suggests the assailant was near the desert before he went to the property." She slipped the piece of paper into her folder and moved to the door. "Thanks Hodges."

He let her get as far as the threshold before calling her back, removing his inordinately ill-fitting goggles and turning to her with an unusually empathetic expression playing on his features.

"Sara, you know that we're all here for you, right? I mean, if ever you need anything … you just have to ask." He stumbled clumsily through the sentence. Words of comfort were not exactly his forte, as was evident when he had tried to console Morgan at the hospital. However, somehow he didn't think Sara was going to react in the same way she had done.

"Thanks … Hodges." Sara frowned. She had been expecting something of the sort from Mandy or Doc Robbins, but she thought that this snide, wise-cracking lab rat would be her one safe zone from the sympathetic comments and pitying looks.

When she continued to stare at him in surprise, he shifted under her baffled gaze.

"What?"

"Nothing." She shrugged, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her long cardigan. "I was just expecting you to take Grissom's side."

He nodded slowly, understanding where she was coming from. For a moment she expected him to announce that he was being sarcastic and that he and Gil would be discussing the matter in great detail over an interactive game of chess later this evening.

However, the comment never came.

Instead, he simply replaced his goggles and fixed her with an unreadable look.

Despite the humorous effect the magnifying plastic had on his wide blue eyes, his voice was oddly sombre as he answered her hidden question evenly.

"Well, I'm not."


	31. Into that darkness peering

Catherine Willows was not ordinarily a woman who got jealous.

Okay, maybe she was, but not this kind of jealous.

It wasn't so much their closeness that was bothering her; it was the affectionate little touches here and there. It was the undecipherable looks passing between them.

It was the sweet, understanding smile that Finn gave Sara every time they were together.

She knew that she must be missing something – there was no way that Sara would usually be that open with someone unless there was a good reason. There must be something else going on.

She just didn't know what it was. That was the most annoying thing about it.

Not that she had any right to be jealous, she knew. It wasn't like there was anything going on between herself and Sara.

Yet.

They hadn't actually discussed her feelings since that one conversation at the hospital. She wanted to, but there never seemed a good time to bring it up. Sara was still healing, after all; both mentally and physically. She didn't want to push her into anything until she was ready.

Although, watching Julie Finlay fussing around Sara was stirring something in the pit of her stomach that made those feelings of possessive lust course through her blood.

No, she did not like it one bit.

X x x

"Miss Sidle." Doc Robbins greeted with a lazy smile as she shuffled up to his bench. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Let's start with cause of death and go from there." She flashed a familiar grin, gesturing to the deceased lying between them.

"If we must." He nodded, removing his glasses and pointing to a large contusion on the young man's forehead. "Looks like a blunt object; I'm thinking maybe a baseball bat. I pulled some splinters from the wound and sent them to Hodges."

She winced at the sight of the injury. It looked painful, but that wasn't what made her squirm. Beneath the small white bandage adorning her own forehead, lay a wound of remarkable similarity to the one suffered by their dead man.

Sensing her discomfort, he quickly changed the subject.

"Your victim was no stranger to violence." He pointed out a serious of older, faded bruises on the man's chest and arms. "They look like your standard bar-fight injuries, but I'll take some ultraviolent images to see if there's anything else they can tell us."

"Thanks Doc." She nodded forlornly, burying her hands in the deep pockets of her lab coat. "Let me know if you get anything else."

"Sara." He called out before she could make her exit. "You might be able to hide it from the boys but you can't hide it from me."

She dropped her head, turning reluctantly back towards him.

"You're in pain." He stated bluntly. "How bad is it?"

"It's … bearable." She breathed, offering a reassuring nod.

He clicked his way into the middle of the room, until he was no longer shielded by the table.

"I know how it goes, you know." He pointed out, gesturing to his own wounds. "When I lost my legs, I was determined that I didn't need help. I didn't want painkillers, or rest. I just wanted to get back to my old life and pretend that it never happened."

"I don't think this is the same thing." She hummed tactfully, pursing her lips.

"I don't see why not." He shrugged. "I was grieving for my limbs. That's what made me push through. You're grieving for your marriage, the life you'd planned for you and Gil. Am I right?"

She swallowed hard, her eyes flicking briefly around the morgue in an effort to avoid looking into his eyes and acknowledging that he was pretty much on the money with his assumptions.

"It's just … hard. You know?"

She didn't specify what she was talking about, but it didn't seem to matter to Albert.

"It's not meant to be easy." He assured her. "Just slow down a bit, allow yourself to feel those emotions you're trying so hard to bury." He softened his expression, looking up at her through sympathetic ocean-blue eyes. "Don't push yourself too hard, Sara."

She nodded slowly, taking a deep breath.

"Thanks Doc." She mumbled at last, stepping backwards towards the door.

"Anytime." He promised with a warm smile, throwing his free hand out in a nod to his sterile abode. "You always know where to find me."

X x x

Her shoulder ached when she sat in this position, but she didn't really care right now. The pain reminded her of why she was thinking in the first place.

"Hey," a friendly voice called her back from her mental wanderings as Finn sauntered into the room and made a beeline for the coffee pot. She frowned at Sara's pensive position: her arms folded on the table and her head resting on them with a concentrated look on her face.  
"You okay?" She inquired, pouring herself a mug and ambling into the middle of the room.

"Mm." Sara answered ineloquently, making no effort to sit up.

Finn wandered over and wrapped her arms around Sara from behind, propping her head up on the girl's shoulder.

"You want to talk about it?" She asked, her hot breath tickling the sensitive skin of Sara's neck.

The brunette shook her head, all the while still wrapped in Finn's embrace. It was an awkward hug, but it was oddly comfortable nonetheless.

"It's just, someone said something to me earlier that gave me some stuff to think about." She explained vaguely, drawing a murmured response from the Seattle CSI.

So enamoured were they in each other, neither had noticed the sound of high heels clicking towards to room or the figure that stopped in the threshold and leant against the doorframe with a disparaging look.

"She's alright." The voice spoke coolly at last, gaining their attention. Finn and Sara straightened up in unison, both equally surprised by the unexpected greeting.

Sara smiled brightly at her friend, while Finn's expression belayed the fact that she had picked up on Cath's testy mood; something which had evidently escaped the brunette.

"Hi, you looking for Russell?" She inquired cheerfully.

"Yeah." Catherine cleared her throat. It was a lie, but it would suffice. "Would you mind getting him for me?"

"Sure." Sara pushed herself off the stool and disappeared into the hall. For a second she debated which way to go but, assuming that Cath would have already passed his office, she chose to search the maze of busy labs first. Just as Cath had hoped.

There was no reason Catherine couldn't have found him herself – if she was even looking for him, of course – but this gave her an opportunity she had been waiting for, and she wasted no time in seizing it.

"Sara's fine, you know. You don't need to hang around her." _Or drape yourself over her._ She added in her head. "She's doing okay."

"I know." Finn nodded, folding her arms across her chest; a stance which Cath mirrored. "But a lot of people here care about her. _I_ care about her."

It may have all been in her mind, but something about her tone set Cath's jaw on edge. She took a step closer – not a threatening one as such, more of a mild warning.

"Just a heads up, Sara's not the most tactile of people. Sometimes it's best to just give her some space."

"Like you do, you mean?" Finn challenged easily. Catherine, however, barely flinched.

"I know Sara." She pointed out with a hint of smugness to her voice. "I know her boundaries."

"Right." Finn nodded, a knowing smirk spreading across her face. "And I'm sure that you wouldn't want those boundaries to be crossed, am I right? Because we wouldn't want Sara to feel … pressured into anything."

Catherine's expression remained stoic, but her eyes flashed with fear. Did Finn know? She couldn't possibly.

Sara wouldn't have told her … would she?

She wanted to ask what the woman was trying to insinuate; but what actually came out wasn't entirely what she intended.

"You don't know Sara. And you sure as hell don't know me."

Her own shock at the words were only concealed by a sharp turn back to the door, her heels clicking quickly across the tiles as she made her hasty retreat.

Finn blinked, her eyebrows shooting into her hairline at the unexpectedly rapid exit.

Well, if she wasn't sure of Catherine's feelings for Sara before, that had pretty much confirmed them.

X x x

"The homeowner is Laura Mayer, 35." Brass read from his notes. "Nosy neighbours got suspicious when they didn't see her leave for work, so they peered through the window and spotted the blood. Paramedics found the body in the bedroom."

"Okay." Nick nodded, shooting Sara a sideways glance. "What do you think? Examine the living room first and work upstairs to the body?"

"Sounds like a plan." She breathed, stooping down to pick up her kit and moving towards the house.

"My guys are trying to track down the boyfriend." Brass explained. "Keep me posted."

The Texan nodded, making to follow Sara when he was stopped in his tracks by Brass hissing his name.

"Hey Nicky, just … keep an eye on her, will you?"

Nick following his line of sight back to Sara and nodded reassuringly.

"Don't worry, I've got it covered." He promised the detective, sidling casually back towards the scene before Sara could notice he'd vanished from her side.

X x x

"I'm not saying I won't do it." He countered desperately. "I'm just saying that maybe there's a better way."

"No." Basderic insisted. "I have gone too far with this to back down now."

"I get that." He swallowed, I do. I just don't think…"

"You're not meant to think." Basderic snapped. "You're meant to do."

"Hey, I didn't have to help you with this, remember!" The taller man pointed out impatiently, brandishing a finger at his companion. "I could walk away!"

"But you won't." A row of crooked teeth shone in the dim light, an eerie Cheshire-cat grin. Before he even registered what was happening, a hand flew towards him like a flash in the dark. He landed on the concrete floor with a dull thud, feeling the hard impact resonate through his spine.

"I will hurt you." Basderic's cold voice hissed from somewhere above. "You know I will."

The gun, clipped to his waist, glinted in the strip of light peeping through the filthy blinds. A silent warning.

Suddenly he could see why women were so scared of this guy. He wasn't just vengeful, he was crazy.

"You know what," the man spat, wiping away the line of blood trickling from his nose. "Do whatever you fucking want. Because I'm done."

Ronald, however, was not.

He took a step closer. Then another. He kept moving until he was straddling the man on the ground, his feet either side of his head.

"Is that a fact?" He asked calmly, his knuckles cracking ominously at his side.

X x x

They were less than an hour into the examination when Nick's keen eyes caught sight of Sara periodically touching her shoulder. He had noticed her doing it a few times recently, and it had not escaped his attention that it was the shoulder she had landed on in her fall.

"Hey, you alright?" He called, nodding at her unconscious actions.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She made a point of dropping her hand back to her side. "It just gets a bit sore sometimes."

"Yeah, yeah I bet." He hummed, putting down his equipment and ambling towards her. "Hey Sara, don't bite my head off but … do you think that maybe you came back too soon?"

"No." She insisted easily. When he continued to stare at her, making it clear that he wasn't going away, she finally stopped what she was doing and faced him."What else should I be doing? Sat at home, thinking about how bad my life turned out?"

"Hey, come on." He scowled. "It hasn't turned out that bad. You've still got us." He flashed her a cheesy grin, eliciting a bright laugh.

"Yeah, I do don't I?" She drawled, shooting him a grateful smile. "Look, I appreciate what you're all doing; but I'm fine. I just need something to keep me sane right now."

"Alright, I get that." He nodded. Certainly, after his own ordeal in the Perspex box he had needed something to occupy his spinning thoughts. "We're just looking out for you, because we love you." He dragged her into a hug, pressing a kiss into her hair.

"I know." She mumbled against his neck, losing herself for just a second in his strong arms before he released her. "Thanks."

"Just take care of yourself." He tapped her on the jaw, narrowing his dark eyes at her with a small smile before meandering back to his work.

With Doc Robbins' words still ringing in her head from earlier, she reached into her pocket and extracted the painkillers that Catherine was insisting she carried around with her. She hated to admit it, but they did take the edge off.

Tapping two of the tiny white pills into the palm of her hand, she took a deep breath and swallowed them before pocketing the tub again.

Maybe it wasn't so bad to accept a little help every now and then.

As she returned to her own tasks, Doc's words flashed back to her mind.

"_You're in pain."_

It hadn't occurred to her at the time, but perhaps he hadn't been talking specifically about physical pain.


	32. Parting, bird or fiend

**Not my finest chapter, but we're into exam territory now so this will have to make do until I get some more time I'm afraid. **

**To all my readers who were enjoying Eurovision last night … well done to Denmark! (And well done Bonnie!) **

**x x x x**

"You have to listen to me!" Laura shrieked, fighting desperately against the firm hands attempting to hold her down. "My daughter's in danger! You have to help her!"

"Code four." Someone somewhere to her left barked into a radio, and an alarm began to sound down the hall.

"You have to call her friends! They can help her! You have to do something!" She continued to plead in the vain hope that someone would get the message.

Her head felt like it was made of foam and her limbs felt heavy and uncoordinated as she began to lose her fight. Her energy waning fast, she put her last ounce of strength into shoving them away, and for a second she thought that she had succeeded.

Suddenly, a harsh grip on her shoulders yanked her backwards and slammed her into the mattress.

"Please, you have to help her." She shouted, scared tears streaming down her face as she was finally wrestled into restraints.

"You have to help my daughter. I can't lose her!"

A familiar prick in her arm drew a startled wince from her and she tried to pull away, crying pitifully for someone to listen to her.

"Please, don't let him hurt my baby." She whimpered, the effects of the sedative rapidly taking hold and dragging her down into a tortured, drug-induced nightmare.

X x x

"Mi manchi troppo, il mio amore." Hodges crooned into the phone, gesticulating wildly with his free hand, even though the person on the other end couldn't see him. "Ma io sono molto occupato in questo momento."

After a few more sentimental exchanges, he hung up and released a despondent sigh.

"Let me guess," a playful voice chirped from the doorway. "Telemarketers?"

He turned, one eyebrow raised, to find Morgan and Greg grinning at him from the hallway.

"Don't tell me: Elisabetta's changed her mind about the wedding and she's moving back to _Italia_?" Greg teased, sauntering into the lab and casually propping himself up against the unusually-cluttered counter.

"No." Hodges bristled, wrenching a folder roughly from underneath Greg's elbow. "She was just … calling to chat."

"Checking up on him." Morgan leant down to hiss knowingly in Greg's ear, flashing David a smirk. "Guess we know who wears the pants, huh?"

"Elisabetta is not that kind of woman." Hodges insisted. "She's … passionate."

"Ooh." Greg wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, earning him a disgruntled eye-roll from his laboratory-confined colleague.

"What do you want?" He asked tersely, barely concealing his annoyance at being grilled on his relationship.

"Hey, you know we were only joking; right?" Morgan held up her hands defensively, all humour falling from her voice as she attempted to placate the obviously irate man.

"Yeah, well maybe I don't need your jokes tonight!" He snapped, ripping his latex gloves off and hurling them onto the bench exasperatedly. "So, was there anything else?"

"Never mind," Greg frowned, touching Morgan's arm lightly as he backed towards the door. "We'll come back later."

Hodges watched them go with an irritated scowl, placing his hands on his hips.

In truth he wasn't really angry with them. He was just … confused.

And that was not an emotional state he revelled in experiencing, by any means.

X x x

"Captain." A gruff voice cleared his throat and Jim glanced up to find Officer Mitchell hovering in his doorway with an uncharacteristically tentative expression.

"Mitchell." He greeted coolly.

"Taylor Wynard's at reception. He wants to see you." The officer explained his presence, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Taylor Wynard." Jim frowned, drawing the face to memory. "Tell him to take a seat, I'll be with him soon."

The officer didn't move, shuffling his feet anxiously in the threshold.

"Captain," he coughed. "I think you're going to want to see him. He said it's about Basderic – and Sara."

X x x

They had fallen into an easy silence, working naturally around each other. Nick continued to shoot Sara concerned glances every now and then, but with the painkillers doing their job she had relaxed into the task.

Her cell phone vibrating against her hip was the only interruption to the peaceful atmosphere.

Putting down her fingerprint brush, she unclipped it and narrowed her eyes at the screen.

"Something wrong?" Nick asked, noting her perplexed frown.

"It's the care facility." She explained, pushing herself carefully to her feet. "I'll be right back."

"Yeah, sure." He nodded, watching her go. He had to admit that what Sara was doing for her mother was beyond admirable.

In all the years they had known each other, he had never realised what kind of traumatic upbringing Sara had endured. Recent events, as tragic as they were, had served to give him quite a wake-up call.

Glancing around to check he was alone, he extracted his own phone and dialled a familiar number.

"Mom, hey." He cleared his throat. "It's Nicky. No, everything's fine. I …" he paused, chewing on the inside of his cheek. It was telling that his mother's first assumption was that he was only calling because something was wrong.

Why was he even calling?

Setting his evidence down, he perched on the edge of the bed and ran a hand over his cropped hair.

"I guess I just wanted to check in and … say hi, really."

X x x

Mitchell hadn't been kidding.

As soon as Jim Brass stepped into the reception, he knew why the officer had been so keen for him to see Taylor.

His entire face was black and blue with dried blood caked around his nose and mouth.

"Captain Brass." He greeted nervously, his bloodshot eyes flicking nervously around the precinct. "Could we go somewhere private?"

Brass glanced past him to the reception desk.

"Don't let anyone in my office." He barked at the receptionist, gesturing for the man to follow him.

Inside, the blinds were drawn and the door was closed as both men settled themselves on either side of the desk.

"Looks like you took quite a beating, Mr Wynard." The detective noted without a hint of sympathy.

"Yeah, well. I probably deserved it." Taylor confessed, sniffing pitifully. "That's why I'm here; I wanted to make things right before it's too late."

"Make what right?" Jim narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Officer Mitchell said this was about Sara?"

"Yeah." Taylor swallowed hard, his eyes darting energetically around the office. "She's in danger."

Jim sat forward, his voice eerily calm in contrast to his blazing blue eyes.

"Then you'd better start talking."

X x x

"Hello?" She scowled, exasperation evident in her voice as she moved as quickly as she could downstairs in the hope that her signal might improve. So far all she had gleamed through the static was that there was something wrong with her mom and they needed to speak to her.

She could do without this kind of stress right now, but she wasn't going to hang up until she had gotten a straight answer.

Unfortunately, her cell phone didn't give her much of an option in that matter.

She released a frustrated growl as she stared down at the useless piece of technology in her hand; the taunting song of the dial tone doing nothing to appease her growing agitation.

She made a move to re-dial the facility when she heard a footfall behind her and a familiar click resonated in her ear.

"Aw." A cold voice rasped, sending chills coursing through her body. "I do hope there's nothing wrong with your dear mother."


	33. Tempest and the Night's

**No cliffhanger this time :)**

**x x x x**

Sara felt her blood run cold as the hot breath grazed her neck and the cold tip of a gun pressed into her shoulder blade.

"No, no Miss Sidle." He crooned when she instinctively reached for her own weapon. "That's not a smart idea."

"What do you want?" She asked, fighting desperately to keep her voice steady despite the butterflies going wild in the pit of her stomach and the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears.

"Oh, I think you know what I want." He hissed, pressing the gun harder into her skin. "I want to make you pay."

X x x

"Well?" Finn breathed hopefully, attempting to keep up with Russell's obscenely large strides. "Anything?"

"No, she's not picking up." DB huffed, snapping his phone shut and stuffing it back into his pocket. "And Nick's is engaged."

"Brass is on his way there now with a few uniforms." Finn added, wringing her hands nervously. "Although, if Basderic's already there it might not be soon enough."

"Nick won't have left her alone." Russell set his jaw, attempting to clamp down on the surge of fear coursing through his veins. "He won't let anything happen to her."

He truly did believe that Nick would do everything he could to protect Sara. But even that belief wasn't strong enough to push away the thought that he could be about to lose one or both of his guys to this maniac.

X x x

"Don't even think about it." He murmured as her phone continued to ring pitifully in her hand. "You don't want me to get angry now, do you?"

"Why are you doing this?" She swallowed hard around the lump in her throat, blinking back frightened tears.

"Because I can." He answered easily. "And because you gave me no other choice."

"You have ruined so many lives." She continued, shaking her head slowly. "Someone's going to stop you one day."

In the back of her mind it registered that she probably wasn't wise to provoke him right now, when he was wielding a lethal weapon to her already damaged body; but fear always had induced strange reactions from her. Her unexpectedly steady voice, despite the internal turmoil she felt, was testament to that.

"Oh yeah?" He challenged, unperturbed. "Who's going to stop me? Your friends? The one's who think you're suicidal."

He walked around her in a slow circle, keeping his gun levelled at her until they were facing each other and she could see the manic glint in his misty grey eyes.

"Recognise it?" He asked, cocking the weapon to the side. "You really need to find a better hiding place."

"You're sick Ronald." She spat coldly. "You know that?"

"Maybe." He shrugged, seemingly unfazed by the accusation. "But so are you. At least, that's what everyone thinks. And after this, they'll know it."

"No." She shook her head, fighting a desperate war with the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "No, they know I wouldn't do that. Not here; not like this."

"Really?" He tipped his head to the side, regarding her carefully. "Even after your mother's … tragic incident?"

Her eyes, thus far wide and fearful, suddenly turned black with anger.

"What have you done?" She growled, unconsciously tightening her grip on her cell phone. Was that what they had been trying to tell her?

"Nothing … yet." He grinned. "But who's to say that that phone call you just got wasn't enough to tip you over the edge?"

"This is exactly what you wanted, isn't it?" She asked hoarsely, realisation crossing her features. "You planned all of it, right down to this minute."

"Not exactly." He pursed his lips. "Admittedly, this wasn't my first idea; but your friend Taylor hasn't given me any other choice."

"Taylor?" She repeated. Taylor Wynard … he was in on this? He couldn't have been…

"I watched you, Sara." Basderic leant closer, until she could smell the faint traces of bitter coffee on his breath. "I read your emails; I witnessed your adolescent groping outside the bar. I watched you sleeping." He lowered his voice, a sick smile making its way across his thin, pale lips. "Did you even notice? Seven stab wounds. I stabbed him seven times, just like your father."

"Why are you doing this?" She whispered, finally losing her battle and allowing crystal tears to creep down her ashen cheeks.

"Because I wanted you to know how it feels to lose control." He explained, taking a step closer until the barrel of his gun was pressed against her neck, but she didn't let herself flinch away from the cool metal this time.

"I wanted you to know how it feels to lose everything that you care about, everything that you need. So I took your privacy; and I took your reputation … and now I get to take your life."

"Drop it!"

Sara visibly relaxed as the familiar voice resonated around them.

Basderic didn't react at first; his only movement to shift his gaze over her shoulder towards the stairs. If he hadn't known that Nick was here, his expression didn't let on.

"Mr Stokes." He flashed a smarmy grin, oddly confident despite his perilous situation. "Glad you could join us."

"Put the gun down, Basderic." The Texan barked, steadying his own weapon as he came into the room and moved quickly towards the suspect. "I _will_ shoot you."

"Then do it." The man said calmly, making no effort to move his own weapon. "But if you shoot me, you'll take her out as well."

For a long moment, nobody moved. Sara's breathing remained laboured, her lungs constricting painfully inside her bruised ribcage. She wanted to turn around, to catch Nick's eye. She wanted to see those warm brown orbs and know that everything was going to be okay. But with Basderic's gun still pressed against her neck she daren't so much as speak.

"Drop the weapon!" Nick repeated, taking a step closer. "I'm warning you Ronald, I won't let you hurt her."

"You mean like McKeen hurt Warrick?"

The statement, completely left field, came out so blasé; but it cut through Nick like a rusty blade.

"Don't you talk about Warrick!"

He vaguely recalled barking those same words at Catherine recently, in a situation not too far removed from this one.

"You know, I never liked that man." Basderic continued, a sly grin making its way across his face. This was not how he had initially wanted to carry things out, but everything was beginning to come together nicely now. "How did it make you feel, Nick?" He asked. "When you realised that your friend had been killed, because you stayed to flirt with Edie?"

Sara's eyes widened as the pieces of Basderic's twisted jigsaw began to fall into place in her mind.

"Nick." She called in a shaky voice. "Don't."

But the Texan wasn't listening.

"That wasn't my fault." He snarled, chewing anxiously on the inside of his cheek.

"Nick, this is what he wants." Sara continued desperately. "He wants you to lose it."

Basderic grinned again, the sick grin of a horror-movie villian.

"Well done Sara." He hummed appreciatively. "You figured it out."

Nick, still in the dark about this 'plan', inched closer with his gun still raised.

"Just let her go." He ordered. "Drop the weapon."

"I will." He agreed evenly, licking his lips. "Once I kill her. And you. And then we're even."

"You son of a bitch!" Nick snarled, his patience finally snapping. He levelled his weapon, his hands shaking visibly as he fought to see clearly through the tears in his eyes.

Ronald sent him a feral grin, holding his arms out; and for the first time relinquishing his threat over Sara. He stepped away from her, his attention completely focussed on Nick for the time being.

"Go ahead tough guy." He said cockily. "Shoot me. Like you wanted to shoot McKeen."

"I will." Nick insisted, his voice wavering. "I swear, I will."

"No you won't." Basderic smirked. "You're too chicken, just like you were then. If you were any kind of man, McKeen wouldn't still be alive…"

"I'm warning you..."

"Did your father raise you to be a coward, Mr Stokes? Is that what he saw..."

Ronald's taunt was cut short by a deafening bang and he dropped like a stone onto the hard wooden floor, a pained yelp echoing across the cavernous living room.

Behind him, Sara remained frozen on the spot, her weapon still raised and her eyes wide in shock; as if she couldn't quite believe her own actions.

On the floor between them, Basderic stared up at her with a startled gaze.

"You bitch!" He shouted, clutching at his injured shoulder. He could feel his own blood on his face, hot and bitterly reminiscent of Jack's violent demise.

Nick stepped forwards, kicking Basderic's weapon – Sara's personal weapon really – away before he could even contemplate doing any more damage with it.

Sara continued to stare in sheer horror at what she had done, seemingly powerless to respond to Nick's hollers. He lunged towards her, gripping her wrists firmly with his strong hands.

"It's okay." He assured her, carefully prising the smoking gun from her trembling grip. She fell into his body, letting her head tuck into the crook of his neck. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close and dropping a kiss into her hair.

"It's okay, baby girl."

The familiar wailing of police sirens drew nearer and they both breathed a sigh of relief when the front door collapsed into a mess of splinters and the imposing figure of Jim Brass appeared in it's place. Despite his height of only five-foot-nine, he managed to fill the doorway, with his gun drawn and his face contorted into a mask of rage.

He locked eyes with Nick first, receiving a nod of assurance that Sara was okay, before turning his attention to the man still groaning on the floor.

"Ronald Basderic." He barked gruffly. "I'm arresting you on suspicion of stalking, trespassing, assault with a weapon … and for the murder of Jack Sidle."

As the injured man was wrestled into handcuffs, grunting painfully with every rough jostle, Nick released Sara and stepped up towards him; the usual fierce protectiveness glinting once again in his chocolate brown eyes.

"What did I tell you, Ronald?" He spat, pushing him aggressively in the chest. "I said I won't let you hurt her."

X x x

The sight of the ambulance was not a comforting one, it had to be said, but to their surprise it was not Sara or Nick being treated; but Basderic who was being hurriedly bandaged up by a disinterested paramedic.

By the time DB and Finn climbed out of their car, the man was being hauled unsympathetically by the arm towards a waiting police car by a decidedly pissed off Jim Brass.

Vartann, second officer on the scene, saw the CSIs approach and strode towards them.

"They're alright." He held up his hands before anyone could proffer a question. "Sara's just a bit shaken up."

Behind him, they caught their first glance of the victims. Sara was still wrapped in Nick's shielding arms, her eyes alive and darting wildly around them.

Finn, blatantly ignoring the detective, tore past him towards her colleagues.

When Nick saw the blonde's speedy approach, he carefully released Sara and let Finn ambush her into a tight hug. Slowly, Sara lifted her arms to return the embrace; as a second car tore into the hive of activity.

Catherine was out of the vehicle before it had even stopped, jogging towards DB and Vartann with Greg and Morgan quick on her heels.

The younger two muttered some words of relief at the sight of Basderic sulking in the back of a squad car, while Catherine's attention was fixed on only one thing.

Her instinctive relief at seeing Sara in one piece was quickly slashed by the sight of her wrapped in another woman's arms. _That_ woman, of all people.

Russell seemed to notice her dismay, because he placed a strong hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently.

"She's okay." He promised in a quietly empathetic voice. "That's all that matters."


	34. In the bleak December

**Thank you so much for all the reviews guys :)**

**x x x x**

"She looks okay." Greg commented, earning an uncertain hum from Catherine.

They couldn't quite make out what Sara was saying, but judging by her pacing and contemplative frown, it was not going exceptionally well. She knew they were watching her of course, as evidenced by her frequent glances down the hall in their direction.

"Hey." Brass shuffled up to where they were lurking outside the interrogation room, his expression an unreadable mask as he nodded towards the brunette. "How's she doing?"

"Hard to say." Catherine breathed, shoving her hands into her back pocket. "She's on the phone to the care facility, trying to find out what's going on with her mom."

"Yeah, she probably didn't need that today." The detective ran a weathered hand over his cropped hair, hints of concern creeping though the cracks in his tough façade.

During their hushed conversation, Sara had hung up and tipped her head back to the ceiling; taking a deep breath before she made her way back towards them. She knew that they were scrutinising her every move, but to be honest it was something of a comfort right now.

"Well?" Cath asked, straightening up as she reached them.

"She's okay." Sara nodded carefully. "They've sedated her. They didn't go into detail, but it sounds like she had some kind of breakdown."

She dragged a stressed out hand through her shoulder-length locks, wincing as she grazed the healing wound on her forehead.

"You okay?" Cath softened her gaze, dragging a caring hand up Sara's arm.

"Yeah, I'm …" she paused, swallowing hard around the lump in her throat. "I don't know, right now."

Jim cleared his throat, offering her a comforting look.

"Hey, are you sure you want to do this?" He asked, nodding towards the interview rooms. "It's your call."

She took a deep, calming breath and cracked her knuckles nervously as she considered the question.

"You know, I don't think I need to see him again." She decided at last, to a chorus of understanding murmurs from her colleagues.

"I can take you to see your mom instead, if you like?" Greg offered with an easy shrug. The truth was, he didn't really want to see the man who had nearly killed his friends either.

She replied with a grateful smile, shuffling to his side in a silent answer to the suggestion.

"Good idea." Catherine agreed hurriedly. She hadn't really wanted Sara to sit in on the interrogation anyway.

Greg placed a protective hand on the base of her back, shooting the others a reassuring nod as they turned and made their way down the hallway.

At the other end of the corridor, Nick and Finn emerged around the corner, acknowledging the departure of their colleague with matching frowns. They had expected that Sara would want to see this.  
However, with Catherine present they both realised it was best not to challenge the decision that had obviously been made in their absence.

"Alright." Jim cleared his throat once the group was amassed. "How are we going to do this?"

"I want in." Nick exclaimed quickly, setting his jaw.

"You sure about that?" Catherine asked, eyeing up the man carefully. She could practically feel the anger coming off him in waves, and it was no secret to anyone what Nick Stokes was capable of when he was riled.

"He was going to kill us both." He spat, not that anyone needed reminding. "He wanted to kill us and make it look like Sara was responsible. I want to know why."

X x x

"Ronald." Jim greeted, sliding into his seat. "How's the shoulder?"

"Painful." Their suspect hissed, clearly unhappy at having been stripped of his possessions and decked out in a bright orange jumpsuit. It was not a flattering look on the weedy man.

"Good." The unsympathetic response was expected, but made him wince anyway. It was a precedent for how the rest of the interview was likely to fare.

Nick joined the Police Captain at the table, a cold look in his eyes.

"Where's Sara?" Basderic asked, noting the absence of the brunette with a sly smirk.

"She's fine." Nick answered instantly. "She's somewhere where you can't hurt her anymore."

"It may have escaped your notice, but she was the one who shot me." Basderic attempted to lift his arm as evidence, but quickly thought better of it.

"Self defence." Brass shrugged, sitting forward and folding his hands on the table. "But we'll get to Sara later." He slid a photograph across the table, quirking an eyebrow. "Let's talk about Jack."

"I do hope that her mother is okay." Ronald continued, ignoring the attempt to change the subject. "After her … incident."

Neither investigator missed the knowing glint in his eye or the look of glee that danced briefly across his features.

Nick narrowed his eyes suspiciously, taking the bait.

"What do you know about Laura?"

X x x

No matter how much she tried to concentrate on what was being said in the next room, all Finn could hear was the incessant sound of Catherine clicking her jaw.

"She's going to be alright." The new CSI stated calmly, shooting her a sideways glance. "Sara's a tough cookie."

"Yeah, like you would know." Catherine muttered under her breath, albeit not quite quiet enough.

"I'm sorry?" Finn frowned, turning away from the window to face her companion.

Cath shook her head, tipping her gaze towards the ceiling.

"I know that you think you know Sara, but you don't." She exhaled slowly. There was nothing malicious about her tone, but it was crystal clear what she was trying to say.

Finn pursed her lips, one eyebrow quirking in question. She considered rising to the accusation, but somehow it didn't feel right starting an argument given the topic of conversation: namely, Sara.

She was, after all, the one thing Catherine and Finn had in common.

Julie Finlay was not one to back down from a fight, however, and she certainly wasn't going to let Catherine think she was the only one with an insight to Sara's psyche.

Taking a deep breath, she mirrored the other woman's stance of staring through the one-way glass.

"I was raped." She saw Cath's head whip around to face her but she didn't move. "I was fourteen. He was my tennis coach."

Beside her, Catherine opened and closed her mouth pitifully, unable to find the words she was looking for.

"I never told anyone." Finn continued in an oddly detached voice. "I went off the rails after that: I started hurting myself, going to all-night parties with guys. I lost all respect for myself."

She turned to meet Catherine's startled eyes, holding her gaze firmly.

"I might not know exactly what makes Sara tick," she acknowledged with a small shrug. "But I know why she didn't tell anyone what happened with Jack. I know what must have been going through her head when she was on that roof."

Turning her attention back to the interview, she gave Cath a few minutes to mull over her confession.

The older woman had fallen quiet, absorbing this new darker side of the bubbly blonde. She wanted to say something, to offer some commiseration for her suffering, but she knew that it would only sound tawdry coming from her.

"It took me so long to get to know Sara." She stated quietly at last. "But you … you seemed to have it down to a talent."

"You seem to do alright." Finn shrugged again, biting back a knowing smile.

"Yeah, now." Cath choked out a dry laugh. "It took long enough." She licked her lips, leaning against the window. "When Sara first came to Vegas, it was to investigate the shooting of another CSI – the poor girl had been killed on her first day."

"Holly?" Finn frowned, drawing the conversation to memory. It had only been mentioned in passing by Detective Moreno, but bits of the story had stuck.

"Yeah." Cath exhaled slowly. "I felt guilty about it. I was so scared to get to know Sara, in case I made the same mistake. Now, I wish I'd reached out to her sooner."

"I'm sure Sara knew you cared about her, even then." Finn assured her, even going so far as to offer a comforting smile. "She's pretty intuitive."

The conversation fell quiet just at the wrong moment as Basderic's words filtered through the glass and ricocheted around the small observation room.

Before Finn knew what had happened, Catherine had tore past her with a disgusted growl and burst in on the interrogation.


	35. Hesitating then no longer

"You altered her pills." Nick pointed out bitterly. "You knocked her out cold. You could have killed her."

"Sara had no idea." Basderic dismissed his concern with a flick of his bruised knuckles. "She's such a deep sleeper. She didn't make a sound when I entered." He paused, locking eyes with Brass as a sick smile spread across his lips. "I could have done anything to her …"

Something about the way he said it suggested that it wasn't just a hypothetical scenario and Nick felt his stomach turn at the insinuation.

Suddenly, the door was flung open and Catherine barrelled in, slamming her hands on the table with such force it made all three men jump.

"You sick bastard!" She hissed. "What did you do to her?"

Although startled by the entrance, the smirk dancing on his face didn't falter; his only response to her question being a raised eyebrow.

Finn was not far behind, gripping Cath by the arms and using all of her strength to wrestle the woman backwards.

"You sick son of a bitch! You won't get away with this!" Cath warned, brandishing a finger at him as she was forcibly dragged away from the table and effectively flung through the door into the observation room.

As the men recovered from the unexpected interruption to their interrogation, their suspect emitted a dry chuckle.

"You just can't seem to keep control of your women, can you?"

X x x

"Hey, easy!" Finn held up her hands, attempting to catch her colleague's eye. "You alright?"

"No!" Cath snarled, pacing around the small space like a caged animal. "No, I'm not alright. We have no idea how long he's been watching her or what he's done to her! He could have …" she let the sentence trail off, dragging a hand through her hair. It didn't need to be said out loud what she was thinking; it was the same thing that was worrying them all.

"We don't know that he did anything to her." Finn pointed out, trying to keep her features neutral in an attempt to hide her own concerns. "For all we know, he's just trying to scare us."

"Yeah, well it worked." Catherine spat, pressing her back against the window and tipping her head towards the ceiling.

Finn dropped her hands, taking a tentative step towards the frazzled woman.

"Sara's okay." She stated calmly. "She's going to be fine. Just, keep that in mind."

X x x

"Laura was such a nice lady." Basderic purred clicking his tongue between his disjointed thoughts. "It's such a shame, what happened. Inevitable really, though; what with all the stress Sara's caused lately – she was bound to do it." He paused, shaking his head slowly as a sick smile crept across his face. "Laura loved to talk about Sara. She told me all sorts about her … her 'precious daughter'."

"What about her son?" Nick cut in tersely. "Did she mention Jack?"

"No." He cleared his throat. "No, I didn't realise that until …"

"Until you'd already killed him."

Basderic shifted in his seat, the handcuffs clanking on the scarred table.

"I'd rather not talk about Jack." He stated with a clenched jaw. Clearly, that little error was a sticking point for the control freak.

"No, okay then." Jim hummed, filing that little piece of information away for later use. "Alright, we don't have to talk about Jack. Let's talk about Sara?"

The smirk returned to Ronald's face and he straightened up in his seat.

"I'd like to talk about Sara." He agreed. "In fact, I look forward to seeing her in court … assuming she's deemed compos-mentis, of course."

Nick began to twitch in his seat, but Brass remained unfazed beside him.

"Oh, didn't you know? Sara won't be testifying." The detective stated calmly. "Your friend Taylor has given us everything we need."

It might have been a delayed effect of the pain, but the words seemed to take an inordinate amount of time to register. Slowly, his piercing eyes narrowed in thought.

"Taylor?" He questioned carefully, cocking an eyebrow.

"What, you didn't know that?" Nick asked calmly, folding his arms. "He gave himself up. Told us everything."

"No, you're lying."

Nick opened his mouth to reply to the retort, but his answer was muted by the vibrating of his cell phone. He shot Brass a look as he extracted the device to check the message.

"Now, we already have enough to charge you with trespassing, stalking, aggravated assault, assault with a deadly weapon and murder." Jim listed, suavely following on from where Nick left off. "I mean, you're not going anywhere for a long time, you see where I'm going with this? So, why don't you save us all some time and tell us what we don't know. What did you do to Sara? And Laura?"

Basderic was eyeing Nick carefully, clearly curious about the contents of the message that had the Texan frowning at the small screen. He flicked his eyes briefly to Brass, a sarcastic smile on his face.

"Go to hell."

Jim emitted a dark laugh, unexpectedly pushing himself out of his seat. Ronald jumped slightly at the sudden movement. He half expected the red-head to come bursting in again. But she didn't, and Jim didn't raise a hand to him either.

Instead, he began gathering his notes together into a haphazard pile.

"Alright, if that's how you want to play it." He hummed, nodding at the uniformed guard by the door. "Take him to B-block. Let's see how he fares with the drug dealers and the gang bangers."

Basderic's eyes widened as he was hauled roughly to his feet by the obscenely-large officer.

"No, you can't…"

"Hey, you had your chance to talk." Jim shrugged, ambling to the door with the casual attitude of a man with a plan. "But hey, if you change your mind you know where to find me."

"Oh, by the way." Nick called before their suspect disappeared back to the cells. He held up his phone, catching Jim's eye. "Laura Sidle gives her regards."

Basderic's expression, until now carefully guarded, belayed his horror at this news.

Nick, however, simply flashed him a lazy smile and a nod.

"You have a nice day now."

X x x

"Hey, how's she doing?" Greg asked, creeping back into the room.

Sara had curled herself into the chair, one arm resting lazily across her mom's stomach and the other propping her head up on the mattress. Laura continued to sleep, oblivious to the panic she had unwittingly caused.

Sara shrugged, as much of an answer as she could muster in her current state of emotional exhaustion.

Greg perched on the arm of her chair and placed a hand on the back of her neck, massaging the sore muscles gently with his fingertips.

"I texted Nick." He explained. "They've just finished up the interrogation with Basderic."

"Hmm?"

"He didn't give much away about your mom." He continued. "But he didn't deny anything either."

When Sara remained non-responsive, he decided it was best to change the subject and pointed to the photograph beside the bed.

"She looks familiar." He smiled. She twisted in her seat, snatching the frame off the table and scrutinising it carefully.

Even after thirteen years, he still couldn't read the emotions flashing across her eyes.

"I don't even remember it being taken." She commented at last, allowing him to take it from her and turning her attention back to her mom.

"You were cute." He grinned, studying the little face in the picture.

"Were?" She challenged lightly, shooting him a playful smile over her shoulder.

He laughed, nudging her gently in the shoulder.

"I'd show you my baby pictures, but my mom keeps them locked up in a fire-proof safe."

He knew it wasn't his best joke ever – even if it was partially true – but her sad sigh was not the reaction he had hoped for.

"That was the only photo she got to keep." She breathed despondently. "The rest were left at the house when she was arrested. I don't even know why she had that one with her when she was arrested."

"Maybe, in her own way, she thought that by taking it she could protect you." Greg theorised softly.

"They tried to take it off her, but she begged them to let her keep it. I guess the prison guard felt sorry for her."

Greg changed position slightly, until he was supporting Sara against his chest and dragging his fingers through the tips of her wavy hair.

"Hey Sar, you don't have to tell me if you don't want." He took a deep breath, flicking his eyes briefly to the ceiling. She glanced up at him, sensing where this was going. "But, what actually happened?"

He had read all the case reports, of course, but they had left him with more questions than answers. He knew Laura had killed her husband, but he didn't really understand why.

He didn't know what it had been like living in that house.

"You know how sometimes, everything feels like it's closing in around you and there's so much going on that you don't know where to start trying to fix things?" She asked rhetorically. "That's what it was like in my house, all the time. Things being broken, fights, yelling. It was … oppressive. There was nowhere to go to escape it. But, it was only us that knew." She paused, licking her lips in reminiscent thought. "It was like a big secret. In the house, everything was out in the open but outside … no one said a word."

Greg had resumed his task of gently massaging her shoulders; not that she seemed to have noticed, so engrossed was she in her story. He let his eyes drift closed, trying to picture little Sara in that house; but it remained blurred.

"And then, that night … it all stopped." She swallowed hard, seeking out her mother's serene face through her unshed tears. "The secret was out. The suffocation went away. And everything fell quiet."

X x x

"He's hurt her." Catherine spat. "I could see it in his eyes."

"We don't know that." DB held up his hands, although he had to admit that he wasn't convinced himself. "Let's just leave him in the cells for a while, give him some time to think."

"He'll talk." Jim insisted, idly examining one of Russell's knick-knacks. "After a few hours with the big dogs, he'll sing like a canary."

"What about Taylor?" Finn asked, trying to keep down the bile threatening to rise. She had fallen for Taylor Wynard's charm. She had let herself believe that he genuinely cared for Sara … and then he'd done this to her.

Perhaps whatever she thought she'd seen in him was the same thing that had attracted Sara in the first place. That easy smile and effortless charisma.

"I haven't decided what to do with him yet." Jim acknowledged with a grunt.

"I want to talk to him."

Nobody had heard her enter and the eerily detached voice startled them all.

Catherine and Finn both moved towards Sara at the same time, but Finn got there first.

"Are you sure about that?" She asked carefully.

Sara straightened up, casting a glance at Greg who was lurking behind her with a pensive look on his face.

"I need to talk to him." She re-iterated calmly. "I want to know why he did it."

The look that passed between the rest of the group highlighted their unanimous uncertainty about this idea, but it was blatantly clear from her determined scowl that she was not going to take no for an answer this time.

After a stiflingly long moment, Brass emitted a sigh as he stepped towards her.

"I'll call the cells, have him brought up." He nodded at the brunette, analysing her stoic features. "You sure you're okay to do this?"

"I'll be fine." She promised the overprotective detective. "This is just something I have to do."

Behind Jim, the two older women were having their own staring match. Their revealing conversation in the observation room had led to an awkward ceasefire of sorts, but it was clear that neither was quite ready to put their differences aside just yet.


	36. Desolate yet all undaunted

**I hope you like this chapter ... something tells me the CARA shippers might :P **

**x x x x**

He looked up sharply when he heard someone enter, his heavy eyes darting to the door; but the figure before him was not at all who he expected to see.

"Sara." He started to rise from his seat, but was forced back down by the firm hand of the uniformed guard lurking over him like a dark cloud.

"Sit." The officer barked gruffly. Sara nodded at him, indicating that she was okay, but he elected to stay close by anyway. He was well aware of how protective Captain Brass was of this particular CSI and he was not about to let anything happen to her on his watch.

"I didn't expect to see you." Taylor cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. His curiosity was peaked when he'd been summoned back to the interrogation room but he had been expecting to see the fierce detective again.

"No, I figured." She stated coolly, sliding into the seat opposite and folding her hands on the table. Without offering an explanation to her presence, she scrutinised him carefully through narrowed eyes. He looked like hell. A far cry from the smooth, charismatic man she had met in the bar. His skin was an unnatural white against the dark bruises marring his face and his eyes were cloudy and dull under the harsh light.

"I want to know why." She said at last.

"I didn't know it was going to turn out like this." Taylor straightened up instantly despite the contusions covering most of his body. "I promise, I never intended for anyone to get hurt."

"My brother's dead." Sara spat harshly. "And you want me to believe that you didn't have a hand in that?"

He dropped his head, shaking it slowly in loss. "I didn't know anything about that." He insisted. "Not at first."

"So what did happen? He sent you over to talk to me in the bar…"

"No." He reached across the table towards her before remembering that the guard was still behind him and reluctantly retracting his hands. "No, that night I hadn't ever seen him before. It was only after the police questioned me about you... your accident, that I met him."

"Go on." She encouraged quietly when he trailed off.

"He found me at work. I don't know how, but he said he wanted to talk to me … about you. He said he had a way to get us together." He coughed, clearing his hoarse throat. "But that he needed my help first."

"You knew what was going on, why didn't you call the police?"

"Because I never thought it would turn out like it did." He frowned, flexing his hands on the table between them. "He promised me that no one would get hurt."

Sara nodded slowly, her gaze falling into the middle distance as she chewed over his explanations. The truth was, she hadn't really had to do this. But there were a few questions that she wanted answers to, and she figured Taylor was more likely to spill his guts than Basderic was.

"What about my mother." She asked at last, bitterness creeping into her voice once again. This was probably the thing that ticked her off the most. "What did he want with her?"

"I don't know." Taylor breathed. "At first he just wanted me to get close to her, to find out what I could about your condition. But then he changed the game plan. He asked me to pass on a message to her."

"Yeah, I know." Sara sent him a tight smile. "Nicely done, flirting with the receptionist. Was that part of his plan too, or did you come up with that all by yourself?"

He chose to ignore the blatant sarcasm dripping from her voice, perhaps realising that he probably deserved it on some level.

"I went to see her in the facility but they had her under police guard so he gave me some stuff to pass onto her instead. I needed an in and…" he held his hands up, assuming the rest was self-explanatory. "I swear; I didn't know what was in it."

"That's okay. I do." Sheshot him a piercing look across the table. There was one more thing that she had planned to ask him, but now that she was face to face with him she thought better of it.

To be honest, she wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer anymore.

She pushed herself away from the table and stood up, walking to the door in measured steps without so much as casting a final glance over her shoulder at him.

"Sara." Taylor called out sadly, peering up at her through bloodshot eyes. She didn't turn around, but she paused with one hand on the door handle long enough to hear his parting message. "I never wanted this to happen."

"Yeah." She pursed her lips tightly. "Me neither."

X x x

"Sara!" Catherine dashed down the hall, attempting to keep up with her speeding friend. Nobody had observed the meeting – at Sara's request – so she had no idea what had been said in that room; but judging by the fact that the brunette barely spared them a fleeting glance before taking off through the Police Station, she could only assume it wasn't good. "Sara, wait!"

"Catherine, leave her!" Finn grabbed the woman by the sleeve, yanking her back. "She needs some time."

Cath, however, was not in the mood for listening to reason and wrenched her arm free from Julie's grasp.

"What she needs is support from her friends." She countered firmly, stropping down the corridor in the direction that Sara had vanished.

Finn dropped her shoulders, despondency flashing across her features. She felt DB's hand on her lower back and released a sad sigh as she leant into the touch.

"She won't like it." The blonde stated simply. Russell nodded silently in agreement, although he was not entirely sure whether she was referring to Catherine or Sara.

X x x

"Hey." Morgan greeted, breezing into the room. "I got the toxicology results back from the gift basket sent to Laura."

"And?" Greg leant forward with anticipation, resting his hands on the light table.

"The food was laced with Dexedrine and the drink was straight vodka."

"Well, Dexedrine's an amphetamine; it must have reacted with her anti-psychosis medication. No wonder she lost it in the way she did." Greg huffed. "Was the concentration enough to kill her?"

"In the food: absolutely. In her blood: no, not even close. But it would certainly be enough to cause the reaction she had – I heard they had to sedate her?"

"Yeah, apparently she was pretty wound up. She kept saying that someone was trying to kill Sara." Greg explained with a heavy sigh.

"Well maybe she worked out what was going on and the combination of that and the meds caused her to freak out." Morgan theorised. "She did already know that someone was going after Sara."

"Well, that's a logical theory." He nodded. "But I think I know what actually set her off." He slid an evidence bag across the table towards her. Snapping on a latex glove, she shook the piece of paper out of the bag and scanned it briefly.

It was a faded photograph which she recognised from the newspaper article about Angelo Sidle's death. It was a photograph of Jack. Across the top, in neat handwriting, were four words; and another four daubed across the bottom.

"'Like father like son ... Like mother like daughter'." She read, blinking at the statement. "Seriously, Basderic put this in the basket?"

"Yeah." Greg ran a hand across his spiky hair, which was looking more distressed with every passing hour today.

"But why?" she scowled, laying the note carefully on the bench. "What was this going to achieve?"

"I think it achieved it." He said through gritted teeth. "Basderic wanted to take everything from Sara. He wanted to destroy her life, her mother's life and then he wanted to kill her."

"Yeah, well, he nearly succeeded." Morgan pointed out quietly. "But I guess somewhere it all started to unravel."

"He underestimated Sara's insomnia." Greg breathed. "And how bad the phone reception is at some of our crime scenes."

"And Laura. He evidently thought she would just fall into a pit of despair at seeing this. Probably hoped that she would drown her sorrows and end up in intesive care again - or worse. Instead she caused enough of a stir to make the care facility call us."

"He made a lot of mistakes."

"No, he only made one mistake." Finn declared calmly from the doorway, startling them both. "He picked the wrong team to mess with."

X x x

"Sara?" Cath peered into the dimly lit lab, taking a minute to let her eyes adjust to the darkness. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." She heard a soft voice mutter. "I just need to be alone."

Ignoring the statement, Catherine came fully into the room and joined her by the bench.

"You weren't to know." She pointed out. "We didn't know what he was going to do any more than you did."

"I'm fine Catherine." Sara insisted firmly, keeping her gaze low to avoid any chance of the strawberry-blonde catching her eye. "I just … need some time."

"Sar," Cath sighed, perching on the table and leaning down to rest her hands on Sara's knees. "Honey, why don't I take you home? You don't need to be here right now."

"What I need is for you to leave me alone." The CSI reiterated, pushing herself away from the bench and standing up in an effort to put more distance between them.

"Sar," Cath repeated with a sad frown, sensing that there was something she was missing. "Honey? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Sara snapped bluntly, beginning to pace in small circles.

"Come on," Catherine hopped down and walked towards her, arms outstretched. "Sara, talk to me. What's the matter?"

Sara shook her head, keeping her lips tightly sealed until she felt warm hands grip her arms and attempt to turn her around.

"It's all just so messed up." She muttered at last, although the sentiment was more for her own benefit than her companion's.

Catherine shook her head in confusion.

"Honey, we've got Basderic. He's never going to hurt you again." She assured her, letting her hands roam up and down Sara's arms in a comforting gesture. "And Taylor…"

"No. Not that." Sara blinked away the tears stinging her eyes, stepping out of Cat's hold.

"Okay." Catherine's perplexity was growing by the minute, but it was the look in Sara's eyes that truly caused her anguish. "Sara, baby, tell me what's wrong." She begged. "If I don't know then I can't fix it."

Sara scanned her features for a painfully long moment, clearly debating whether to confess what was troubling her. Finally, she seemed to make a decision, before darting forwards and capturing Catherine's lips in a firm kiss.

The blonde was so stunned by the move, she took several seconds to react. When she finally did, Sara pulled back and wiped hurriedly at the tears trickling down her face. Without another word, she turned on her heel and disappeared out of the shadowy lab.

Catherine watched her walk away with complete bafflement, her tongue automatically tracing her lips where Sara's had been just a moment ago.

She still didn't really understand what the girl had been trying to tell her, but at least now she had a good idea of what had been playing on her mind lately.

X x x

The air was unexpectedly cool as she stepped out of the building, and she found herself wrapping her arms around her body in an attempt to fend off the chill wind as she made her way down the concrete steps towards the lonesome figure.

"Hey." She breathed, jogging to Sara's side. The brunette made no effort to suggest she had heard her as she continued to lean against her car with her gaze lost on the horizon.

For one of the few times in her life, Catherine was suddenly very aware that she had no idea what to say next. She had dashed after Sara in such a hurry, she hadn't really considered what she would do when she caught up to her.

Deciding to just bite the bullet, she cleared her throat and slowed her pace as she approached.

"What was that for?" She tried to keep her tone soft and inquiring rather than accusatory, not wanting to scare her friend off for a second time.

"It doesn't matter." Sara stated morosely, her breath misting in the early morning air. "It'll all be over soon anyway."

"What do you mean?" Catherine frowned, joining her in leaning against the hood of the car. "What will be over?"

She couldn't help being concerned about the deeper meaning of the simple statement and Sara's unflinching focus on the roof was doing nothing to assuage her deep-seeded fears.

Sara, oblivious to how her sentence could have been taken, turned to her with a blank look.

"You can't stay here forever." She pointed out as if it was obvious. "Sooner or later you're going to have to go back to work."

Cath took a deep breath, swallowing down the instinctive sadness at the comment. She couldn't deny that that thought had crossed her mind a few times, but she had done her damndest to push it away.

Instead, she turned to face the woman.

"What do you want to happen?"

The question took Sara by surprise and for a moment she just stared at Cath. What did she honestly want?

"I …" she released a slow breath, shaking her head in frustration. "I want everything to go back to how it was. Back when everything was simple."

"Okay." Cath nodded slowly, her brow furrowing in thought.

"No, it's not." Sara shook her head again, throwing her hands out. "Because we can't go back. We can't…"

The thought ended abruptly and she pushed herself away from the car.

"Sara." Cath moved to follow her but the brunette was already halfway across the parking lot, cutting a lonely figure with her shoulders hunkered and hands stuffed in the long pockets of her cardigan.

Catherine released a dejected sigh, watching her disappear from sight for the third time tonight.

Sara was right, she supposed. She did have a job to go back to. She had already taken too much time off anyway; they might not even want her back at this rate. That said, she could hardly just up-sticks and move back to Vegas. She certainly couldn't come back to the lab.

Of course there was one other option. And it was one that she had been considering more and more of late.

Glancing back in the direction that Sara had vanished; she extracted her cell phone and pressed it to her lips for a moment in thought. She could still taste the sweetness of Sara's kiss, and hear the bitterness of her words.

Bittersweet. That pretty much summed up their predicament at the moment.

Deciding to take a chance on the sweet, she dialled the number and waited with baited breath for a familiar voice to answer.

"Hi, Sherry." She cleared her throat, letting her eyes drift closed as she drew to memory the moment Sara's lips had brushed her own. She was taking a risk here, but if she could have a repeat of that split second even once more, it would be worth it. "I was wondering if you'd be free to talk. I have something I need to ask you."


	37. She shall press, nevermore

"_Catherine, hi. It's Morgan." The timid voice began, her hand shaking as it gripped the phone to her ear. "I'm sorry, I know it's late."_

"_It's okay." Cath assured her, sounding remarkably alert given the time on her end of the line. "Everything alright?"_

"_No." Morgan swallowed around the lump in her throat, attempting to hold her composure. The last thing she wanted was to break down while talking to the older woman. "Far from it."_

_Catherine had picked up on her demeanour as soon as she answered, and now an unsettling feeling was making itself at home in the pit of her stomach. _

"_Morgan, what's going on?"_

_She swallowed again, gearing herself up to utter those sickening words. _

"_Catherine, Sara's in the hospital." She paused, taking a deep breath. "It looks like a suicide attempt."_

_There was a long silence on the other end of the line, which was not doing Morgan's butterflies any good. _

"_She's going to be okay though." It wasn't a question, but there was more than a touch of hope to Catherine's voice. _

"_They can't say." She shook her head, even though Cath couldn't see it; tears spilling from her blue eyes unnoticed and dragging a faint line of mascara down her pale cheeks. "Listen, um, Nick's falling apart here, Greg's beside himself. They need you, I … I need you." _

"_I'm on the first plane back." She could already here the distinctive rustling sound of packing as Cath began opening drawers at random and throwing things haphazardly into a bag. "Just take care of Sara for me until I get there."_

"_Yeah, of course." Morgan nodded eagerly. "Just, get here soon." _

Catherine had recalled that conversation so many times in the last couple of weeks. The tentative concern at receiving the late-night phone call, the heart-stopping moment when Morgan had uttered those painful words. Even now, it still made her wince.

She would have come back anyway, even if Morgan had said that Sara was going to be fine. She would have needed to see it for herself.

And it was that conversation that convinced her that what she was about to do was the right thing.

Doing this would mean that she would always be here for her friends, no matter what happened.

The truth was, she never should have left.

"Catherine, hi."

She looked up and smiled, shaking away the reminiscent thoughts as she rose instinctively from her seat to greet the Sheriff.

"Sherry. Thank you for meeting with me." Cath cleared her throat, sinking back down and waiting for the waitress to fill two mugs of sludge masquerading as coffee.

"Well, you said you wanted to talk." Sheriff Listen pointed out, making herself comfortable in the booth.

"Yeah, I did." Cath licked her lips slowly, tracing a scar in the table sitting between them. "I wanted to ask about the job in Vegas – if it's still available, that is."

Sherry frowned, studying Catherine carefully over the rim of her coffee mug as she took a long, contemplative sip.

"Does this mean that you've reconsidered?" She asked at last, sitting forward. Cath nodded slowly, flicking her blue eyes up to meet the dark ones analysing her own features.

"Yeah, I have."

She had expected some kind of interrogation on the matter, some questions about her change of heart. But there was none. Sherry took another large mouthful of her coffee, pulled a face at the bitter taste, and extracted her cell phone from her pocket.

"I'll have the paperwork drawn up." She stated simply, sliding out of the booth. "Come to my office tomorrow and we'll finalise the details." She moved to leave but paused for a moment, narrowing her eyes at the former CSI. "I'm glad you came around. Vegas hasn't been the same without you."

X x x

"You're sure about this?" DB asked, making a point of closing the door behind them.

"Yeah, I am." Cath breathed, sliding her hands into her back pockets in an attempt to stop them from fidgeting. "I wasn't expecting a parade or anything, but I at least thought you'd be pleased."

"Oh, of course I am." He chuckled, placing a hand on her arm briefly as he passed her en route to his cluttered desk. "I'm just surprised. I didn't even know you were considering moving back."

"I wasn't." She exhaled. "But with everything that's happened, with Sara…"

"Catherine, Sara's going to be okay." He promised, cutting her off. "We're not going to let things get out of hand like that again."

"I know that." She agreed. "I just … I'm not sure I can leave again."

He took off his glasses and tapped them to his chin, analysing her face carefully. He had never seen the usually strong woman look as unsure of herself as she did right now. That said, there was a sparkle in her eyes that he hadn't noticed before either.

"I'm missing something here aren't I." He noted at last.

A guilty smile crept across her face, silently confirming his suspicions. However, to her relief, he decided not to press the issue further.

"Have you told Sara yet?" He asked instead, replacing his glasses on his face.

"No." She breathed, her expression faltering slightly. "No, I haven't figured out how I'm going to do that yet."

X x x

"Hey Hodges." Sara greeted, her attention already submerged in a folder as she ambled into his lab. "You got anything for me?"

"When don't I?" He flashed a grin, beckoning her to the microscope. "The fibres found in your victim's nose were silk. But, that's not all." He produced a second sample for her to view. "The silk in question is ampullate silk, produced by an arachnid to create the outer rim of a web."

"Spider silk." Sara translated, mildly impressed by the discovery.

"The silk of a Madagascar Golden Orb Spider to be precise." The lab rat added with a cocky smirk.

As she straightened up to process this intriguing piece of evidence, tilting her head to the side in thought, she sensed Hodges leaning against the counter beside her with a look of blatant inquisitiveness on his face. She flicked her eyes towards him, quirking an eyebrow.

"Was there something else?"

Taking the opportunity with both hands, he stood up straight and pursed his lips.

"I'm curious, now that she's staying is she still going to be working in the lab? I mean, not that that wouldn't be good but … too many cooks, and all that."

Sara shook her head, blinking in bewilderment at the confused roll of thoughts.

"Hodges, what are you talking about?"

"Well, I just mean that between Sheriff Liston and Conrad calling the shots, and then DB running the lab … with Catherine heading up the Forensic Science Commission, things could get complicated."

Sara stared at him, eyes wide as his words slowly fell into place.

Catherine … in Vegas … permanently.

Without bothering to dignify Hodges' question with an answer, she spun on her heels and damn-near sprinted from his lab.

He stared after her, glancing around to see if anyone else had witnessed the puzzling behaviour.

"Something I said?"

X x x

"Hey." He coughed, ambling up to the lone figure.

Catherine looked up, blinking against the bright sun.

"Hi." She smiled, gesturing to the seat opposite her. Vartann clambered onto the bench, folding his hands on the table.

"I was hoping I'd find you here." He explained, gesturing to the outdoor café. They had come here a couple of times when they were dating; Catherine liked this place. She always said it was a welcome change from the usual tawdry restaurants on the strip.

"Were you looking for me?" She enquired curiously, taking a bite of her sandwich.

It had been so long since he'd actually seen his ex; he took the opportunity to study her. Before she had left Las Vegas, she had been worn down and emotionally battered. But now, she looked relaxed, calm. She looked happy.

"I heard that you're staying in Vegas?" He asked at last.

"Yeah, I am." She blinked, surprised. "Where did you hear that from?"

"It's all around the station." He shrugged nonchalantly. "I figured I'd find out the details from the source."

She pursed her lips, biting back a smile.

"Well, I just thought with everything that's happened with Sara … I'm better off staying here. I can't leave her again, not now."

"That's it?" He raised a sceptical eyebrow. "You're staying because of Sara?"

She took a deep breath, tipping her head back towards the sun. Her golden hair shimmered in the light, her eyes dancing like crystal blue waves on the tide. In all truth, he had never seen her look so care-free.

"Yeah," she exhaled at last, shooting him a lazy smile. "Yeah, I guess I am."

X x x

"Hey." Sara greeted, sashaying through the house. She tossed her bag onto the couch, taking a moment to scan the living area. Ornaments had changed places, an unfamiliar jacket was slung across the back of a chair, new DVDs littered the floor beneath the TV. Catherine had only been here for a couple of weeks and already she had managed to make the place her own.

"Hi." The very woman smiled at her from the kitchen. "You hungry?"

"Yeah." Sara hummed, sliding onto a stool. They hadn't spoken since their earlier awkward conversation, but it was clear from Catherine's cheerful demeanour that that couldn't be further from her mind right now.

"So, I heard some interesting news today." The brunette pursed her lips.

"Really?" Cath asked from her position half-in the fridge, before emerging with an armful of salad ingredients.

"Yeah. Apparently you're moving back to Vegas."

Cath stilled, her eyes drifting closed for a moment.

"Who blabbed?" She asked, turning slowly to face Sara across the breakfast bar.

"Does it matter?" Sara challenged. "The point is that you didn't."

"I wanted you to hear it from me." Catherine assured her. "I just wasn't sure how to tell you. And somehow word got out before I could stop it."

"I don't understand." Sara shook her head with a bemused scowl. "Where has this even come from? You never said anything about this to me."

"But, this is what you wanted, right?" Cath frowned, suddenly less self-assured about the whole arrangement.

"I …" Sara shifted, her brow furrowed in thought. "I don't know what I want." She replied honestly, throwing her hands out helplessly.

Catherine swept around the bench until she was stood in front of Sara and took both the brunette's hands between her own.

"But us; I mean … I'm not imagining what happened yesterday, am I?"

Sara chewed on her lower lip, searching Catherine's pleading gaze. She didn't offer an answer, but the silent staring contest was enough to convince Cath that she was right and settle some of her fears.

"Honey you said it yourself, we can't go back." She mumbled, leaning her whole body against Sara's. "But, we can go forwards. If you want to?"

"What about my marriage?" Sara sighed, leaning back and dragging a hand through her hair, if for no reason other than to put a bit more physical distance between them. Being so close to the attractive blonde was pleasing in more ways than one, but it did nothing for her ability to think logically.

"What about it?" Cath frowned, her voice beginning to waver slightly. "You said yourself that it was over."

"Yeah, only just." Sara countered softly. "I'm not sure I can just dive into another relationship straight away."

"Okay." Cath dragged another stool closer and hopped onto it, resting her hands on Sara's knees in an attempt to hold the woman in place. "We don't have to rush into anything. We don't have to do anything at all, if you don't want to. All I want to know is whether there is a chance, one day…"

Sara flicked her gaze up, considering the question. She couldn't deny that she was attracted to Catherine – in all truth, she had been from day one, but then most people were.

But could she honestly see herself moving on with the woman? Her husband's best friend?

"On one condition." She murmured at last, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Next time you decide to up and move cities, I don't want to hear about it from Hodges."


	38. Friends have flown before

**For those curious about Lindsey, I promise I haven't forgotten about her but she won't appear in this story. She does get a mention in a couple of chapters though **

**This chapter is a little shorter than some of them, but I hope you enjoy anyway :)**

**x x x x**

"I can't believe she's coming back, after all that talk about needing a change when she left." Nick stated, shaking his head in loss.

"Well, I suppose it is still a change." Greg pointed out, stirring his coffee lazily and dragging the foam-covered stirrer across his tongue. "I mean, she'll be doing something different. She'll just be doing it in Vegas."

"What exactly is the job?" Finn enquired, leaning against the counter. She had heard a lot of talk about it, but nobody had mentioned the official job title as of yet.

"It's a Forensic Science Commission: they'll make decisions on national forensic science matters that will affect every lab in the country." Morgan explained. "It will involve some travelling, especially to DC, but the Sheriff's arranged it so that most of the time she'll be based in Vegas."

"That's convenient," Finn smirked, locking eyes with the younger blonde. "She'll be closer to Sara."

"Well, yeah." Nick frowned, missing her point completely. "I think that was the idea. Although I don't get why, we're perfectly capable of taking care of her."

"Are we?" Greg countered, cocking an eyebrow. "We did nearly lose her once."

"Guys, I wouldn't take offence." Finn chuckled softly. "I don't think Catherine changing jobs has anything to do with what happened, although I do suspect that Sara is her only reason for staying."

"Come on." Nick scoffed exasperatedly, finally cottoning onto her meaning. "You guys aren't still on that are you?"

"On what?" Greg asked curiously, catching the amused look passing between the women.

Nick rolled his eyes, gesturing between them with a dismissive wave.

"Oh, they think that Catherine has a thing for Sara."

"Seriously?" A giddy smirk crossed Greg's face. "Cite your source?"

"Are you kidding?" Morgan laughed, her long blonde hair spilling over her shoulders as she threw her head back in delight. "Catherine has been all over Sara since the day she got here. She actually moved herself into Sara's house. I mean, how much more proof do you need?"

X x x

Catherine shuffled into the living room in her slippers, attempting to drag a brush through her tangled hair. Sara was curled up on the couch, already in her pyjamas, with a mug of something hot and sweet clasped between her hands.

"Hey you." Cath smiled, trailing a hand across her shoulder as she swept around the couch and dropped down beside her.

"How is she?" Sara asked, stifling a sleepy yawn.

"Fine." She exhaled, tossing her hairbrush onto the coffee table and shaking her golden tresses out. "Which was about as much as I got before she disappeared. Apparently, she has a party to attend to. To be honest, it sounded like it was already going on outside her door."

"Ah." Sara smiled knowingly, four years of dorm parties flooding back to her in a rush of hazy memories. "Enjoying university then?"

"As far as I can tell."Cath chuckled. "She assures me that she does have time to do her work as well, although I'm not convinced."

"I'm sure she's doing great." Sara promised, folding her legs beneath herself and sliding down into the corner of the couch.

Catherine hummed in agreement, taking a minute to note Sara's appearance.

"You're sleepy." She smiled sweetly at last.

"Hmm." Sara nodded weakly, letting her head fall back into the cushions.

"Why don't you go to bed?"

"No, I'm okay." She murmured, her eyes drifting closed of their own accord.

Cath smiled, patting her knee gently as she made herself comfortable opposite her friend.

It was still hesitant, but the relationship she had with Sara felt easy and natural. It felt like they had been doing this for years.

She knew there was still a long way to go, but she could certainly get used to this.

X x x

"I don't think there'll be too much of a clash." Mandy frowned. "I mean, Catherine's going to be working away from the lab, right? And her job will be on a much larger scale. The Sheriff and Ecklie only focus on _this_ lab."

"Yeah, but still she's going to be aware that every decision she makes will influence _this_ lab." Henry pointed out, slamming his locker shut and leaning against it with his arms crossed.

"She's the forensic expert; she's not making the final call." The brunette rolled her eyes. "She's just there to clarify issues on lab policy and forensic techniques. If anything, having her on board will probably benefit the lab even more."

"Yeah, we might get first dibs on new equipment." Archie grinned from his position between them on the bench.

"You know what I don't get?" Hodges asked, lazily doodling an image on the inside of his locker door with his fingertip. "Why did we know before Sara did?"

"You know how word gets around." Mandy shrugged. "It was probably halfway around the lab before Cath even left the building." She paused, cocking her head to the side. "Still, they are living together at the moment. You'd think Catherine would have mentioned it to her first."

"Exactly." He spun around to face them. "But it was quite clear that she didn't have a clue what I was talking about."

Henry cast a glance nervous glance into the deserted hallway before leaning conspiratorially closer to them all.

"Well, Finn has a theory about them…"

X x x

"Julie Finlay," Cath stated, idly shedding clothes as she wander around the bedroom.

"What about her?" Sara pressed, already curled beneath the blanket with her back to the strawberry-blonde and her eyes closed.

"You and her seem to get on alright?"

"Yeah. Finn's great to work with."

"I meant outside of work." Cath pursed her lips, perching on the edge of the bed as she shuffled out of her jeans and into a pair of shorts. "You and her are pretty close, right?"

"I guess." Sara frowned. "What's your point?"

Cath leant back against Sara's coiled form, resting her hands on the mattress, and exhaled thoughtfully.

"I don't know. There's just something about her that I'm not sure I trust. You want to be careful."

Sara twisted, cracking an eye open and shooting her companion a cheeky smile.

"That 'something' wouldn't happen to be jealously would it, Miss Willows?" Sara asked with a touch of amusement.

Catherine narrowed her eyes, swatting her lightly on the hip.

Electing not to answer at first, she moved back to her own side of the bed and threw the covers back. No doubt, she understood where Sara was coming from; but she was not about to confess to being that kind of woman.

"All I'm saying is stay on your guard." She offered at last. "You've been hurt enough recently."

"Finn wouldn't hurt me." Sara yawned, snuggling back under the blankets.

Realising that trying to hold such a conversation when the girl was already half under the Sandman's spell was fruitless, Cath clicked off the light and slipped beneath the sheets herself.

Beside her, Sara shuffled and wriggled until she was comfortable. Eventually, they found themselves in their usual position with Sara on her side and Catherine facing her back, one arm slung across her stomach. By the time they woke up, she would have nestled closer and have Sara wrapped in a protective cocoon.

They remained chaste. Sex had been discussed, briefly, but it was something they both agreed they didn't need right now. Sara less so, although Catherine did not admit that out loud. Aside from anything, Sara was still … delicate, for want of a better description. The last thing Catherine wanted to do was set back her physiotherapy just so she could indulge in her lustful urges.

Besides, they had their whole lives to explore each other on a physical level. Right now, they were content with getting to grips with the emotional side of their relationship.


	39. Then, what thereat is

"Hey." Greg beamed, swaggering into the garage. Sara glanced up, a streak of oil adorning her left cheek, and nodded in greeting at him.

"Hey. You here to help?"

"Sure." He agreed casually, snapping on a pair of gloves and rounding the car to join her in examining the engine.

However, he barely managed to feign interest in what she was looking at for a whole minute, before the real reason for his visit took precedent.

"So," he nudged her, a playful grin dancing on his lips. "What's going on with you and Cath?"

She stilled, shooting him a mildly startled look.

"Who told you?"

"Morgan." He answered, unable to keep the smile off his face. "So, it's true then?"

"How did Morgan know?" She pressed, straightening up and placing her grease-stained hands on her hips, leaving a smear down both sides of the already grimy jumpsuit.

"Her and Finn kind of … decided that there was something going on." The man explained coyly. To be honest, he didn't really know what had spurned the women's intrigue about Sara's love life.

To be honest, he didn't really care.

Sara rolled her eyes, snatching a tool from the metal box at her feet up and burying herself back under the hood.

"So," he bounced excitedly at her side, poking her relentlessly in the ribs to reclaim her attention. "Details?"

"There's nothing much to tell." She shrugged, batting him away with the spanner in her hand. "We've talking about it, but nothing's going to happen yet."

"How come?" He frowned, deflating somewhat at this news.

"It's just not the right time for anything to happen." She mumbled, finally extracting what she wanted and carrying it to the bench.

Greg cocked his head to the side, scrutinising her body language. In his eagerness for gossip, he hadn't noticed at first how fragile she looked today.

"Are you okay?" He asked at last, trailing after her.

"I'm fine." She murmured, keeping her gaze averted as he materialised once again by her side.

"Sara," He gave her a pointed look, nudging her again with a small, knowing smile. "Don't make me phone Catherine on you."

The teasing remark had the desired effect and a quiet laugh escaped her lips.

"I'm okay, really." She promised. "I just have a headache."

"Oh." He frowned. "Can I get you anything for it? I've got some aspirin in my locker …"

"No, it's okay. I get them sometimes, ever since …." She trailed off, knowing he would realise what she was referring to. "They usually go away after a couple of hours."

"Okay." He placed a hand briefly on her arm, squeezing gently. "Well, if you need anything just give me a shout."

"Thanks." She smiled gratefully, waiting for him to disappear back out of the lab before letting her defences down and a flash of pain swept across her paling face.

X x x

"We were right."

Finn jumped at the excitable voice chirping in her ear. She turned, one eyebrow raised to blink at Morgan.

"Right about what?"

"Sara and Catherine." She joined her hands together in a symbolic gesture, wiggling her eyebrows animatedly.

"Seriously?" Finn beamed. "Sara told you?"

"No, Greg told me." Morgan corrected. "But Sara told him."

"I knew it!" Finn laughed gleefully. "There was no way Catherine was going to let her go this time."

"I guess that means Sara's marriage really is over." Morgan breathed, leaning across the counter and idly reaching for a piece of evidence to examine as she spoke.

"Yeah, I guess so." Finn agreed. "Although to be honest I think it' been dead in the water for a while now." She paused, shooting Morgan a thoughtful look. "You never met Grissom before, did you?"

"Only when I was a kid." She shrugged. Finn spread her hands flat on the table, pursing her lips pensively.

"He's not what I expected, you know?" She mused aloud. "I thought he would be someone young and fit and …"

"Someone like Taylor Wynard?" Morgan piped up. "Or Doug-the-NTSB guy?"

"Yeah!" Finn grinned, glad she wasn't the only one who had seen something off about their marriage. "They just seemed a little mismatched."

"Because Sara's a babe and he's …" However, Morgan never got to finish her thought as their conversation was cut short by a panicked holler from the fingerprint lab.

X x x

By the time they got there, Mandy was nearly hyperventilating on the floor. Sara was collapsed in her arms, her whole body trembling as if she was packed in ice cubes.

"Oh my God, Sara!" Darting to her side, Finn snatched up her slender wrist in a deperate search for a pulse.

"I don't know what happened." Mandy gushed, readjusting her position slightly. "She just went white and … dropped."

"It's okay Mandy," Morgan assured her, placing one hand on the lab techs shoulder and the other on Sara's stomach to balance herself.

"Morgan, go get help." Finn instructed, laying her ear over Sara's mouth. Her own heartbeat pounding through her blood masked any sound, but she emitted a relieved sigh at the feeling of gentle breath grazing her skin.

Morgan stood up and bolted to the door, barely manoeuvring around a startled Greg in the threshold.

"Where's DB?" She barked, dragging the young man along with her.

"I don't know, still in the field with Nick I think." Greg answered half-heartedly, straining his neck in an attempt to catch a second glance of Sara's prone body. "What's happened?"

"She collapsed. We need an ambulance." Morgan stated bluntly.

"I'll get Doc Robbins." Greg added hurriedly, finally tearing himself free from the young blonde's fierce grip and dashing in the opposite direction.

X x x

"Doc!" He gasped breathlessly, falling through the swinging doors into the morgue.

"Greg." The man took off his glasses in surprise at the less-than-graceful entrance.

"Sara's collapsed." Greg managed to gush out. "She's in the print lab."

Doc didn't wait a second longer, ripping off his latex gloves and hurling them in the general direction of a trash can as he followed Greg back upstairs.

"What happened Mandy?" He asked, striding towards the patient and hooking his cane onto the edge of the desk. Contrary to everyone else in the room, he remained largely unruffled at the gut-wrenching sight of the brunette.

"She just collapsed. It happened so fast."

She and Finn had gotten Sara into the recovery position, where she was now nestled between them, her only obvious movement the repeated clenching and relaxing of her hands.

The coroner knelt down stiffly, pressing two fingers against her neck.

"Did she mention anything about feeling ill?"

"Yes, she did to me." Greg cleared his throat from the door, where a breathless Morgan had just rejoined him and was slumped against his shoulder. "She said she had a headache – that she gets them quite a lot since, you know, her fall."

"She could have an internal haemorrhage or a blood clot." He frowned, stroking her head affectionately. "She'll need a CT scan when she gets to the hospital."

"The ambulance is on its way." Morgan assured them. "Is she going to be alright?"

"I don't know." Finn blinked rapidly against the tears threatening to spill from her blue eyes. "Her pulse is all over the place."

The panicked thought was followed by the sound of rushed footsteps through the hallway before two EMTs graced the threshold, escorted by a mildly distressed receptionist.

"What have we got?" The older paramedic asked, already opening his kit.

"Sara Sidle, she's 40 years old. She suffered a recent head injury from a substantial fall." Doc listed, keeping one careful eye on their hands as they examined Sara delicately.

The younger guy narrowed his eyes at their patient. He vaguely recognised the woman; he was sure he had scooped her up from the top of the concrete steps out front recently.

In all honesty, he hadn't expected her to survive the ambulance ride let alone the subsequent surgery. Evidently this woman was quite the fighter, even if her fortune did suck.

"She's been unconscious for approximately ten minutes." Finn added hurriedly.

"Is she going to be okay?" Mandy asked. Having moved to allow them access, she was now twisting her hands nervously beside the youngest CSIs.

"Why don't you ask her?" One of the EMTs commented dryly as Sara began to stir and blink against the harsh light from his torch burning her retinas. "Miss Sidle, can you hear me?"

She murmured something incoherent, attempting to twist away from the restraining hands on the back of her neck.

"Hey you." Finn relaxed slightly at the sight, squeezing her hand gently. "It's okay."

"Sara, stay still." Doc instructed calmly when he saw the girl trying to sit up. "Just let them check you over."

"Given the circumstances, I think its best we take her in." The lead EMT commented, sitting back on his haunches. "Just to be on the safe side."

"I agree." Albert concurred, shooting the injured brunette a stern look lest she dared to contest the suggestion. Not that she was in any mood for an argument right now.

"Do you want me to call Catherine?" Morgan offered as Sara was helped unsteadily to her feet by the paramedics.

"No. She'll kill me." She muttered dryly, eliciting a small smile from Finn.

"One of us can go with you instead if you want?" The older CSI offered. "We can call her from the hospital if necessary."

Knowing exactly how Cath would react when she found out, Sara decided that that was preferable to the strawberry-blonde breaking every speed law in the city to get to them.

She attempted a nod, but the shot of pain in her skull made her think twice and she settled instead for a small yelp of agreement.

"You go." Morgan nodded at Finn. "We'll stay and try to get hold of DB and Nick."

"Okay, good idea." Finn nodded. "While you're at it, you might want to get Mandy a drink."

They turned to the dark-haired lab rat; who appeared to be on the verge of joining Sara on the floor if her current stance was anything to go by. The obvious relief on her face was in stark contrast to her slumped position against the counter, as she fanned herself with a nearby folder.


	40. Though thy crest be

**Thanks for being patient on this one guys, I'm relying on hotel wifi this weekend so wasn't sure I'd get it up or not**

**x x x x**

Catherine was not overly concerned when Sara was running late; that was, after all, nothing unusual given her job.

Her intrigue was, however, peaked by the arrival of an unfamiliar car at the bottom of the driveway. This intrigue quickly turned to gut-wrenching fear at the sight of Sara being walked towards the house by Julie Finlay, who was wearing a mask of worry on her usually irritatingly cheerful expression.

She was at the front door before Sara could even get her key out, a possessive look briefly crossing her eyes at Finn's arm wrapped protectively around Sara's back.

"Everything okay?" She asked, even though it was obvious to even the most ignorant of people that everything was certainly not alright.

"I'm fine." Sara held her hands up before Finn could say anything, brushing her way past them into the house.

Sensing that that was as much of an explanation as she was going to get from her, Catherine turned instead to Jules.

"There was a small incident at work." The woman began tentatively. "Can I come in?"

Catherine narrowed her eyes, but allowed her entry anyway, seen as she didn't really have a choice if she wanted the full story. Lord knows, she wouldn't get it from Sara; who was already in the kitchen, downing a bottle of water in an attempt to sooth her dry throat, although she kept one careful eye on her companions.

Finn followed Catherine in; slipping her hands into her back pockets as she subtly surveyed the place. It was every bit as nice as Morgan has told her. Modern, but complimented with dashes of conventional décor.

"Okay, so what happened?" Catherine asked, extending no offer of coffee at least until she got a straight answer.

"Sara collapsed at work." Finn explained, sending her colleague an apologetic look across the open-plan house. "She was okay, she came to pretty quickly, but Doc wanted her to get checked at the hospital anyway – just to be sure."

"And?" Cath pressed, casting a concerned glance over Sara, who had joined them and was staring resolutely at the floor between them all.

"They called it a delayed intracerebral haemorrhage." She recited calmly. "It's a bleed in the brain."

Catherine opened and closed her mouth, but no words escaped.

"A brain haemorrhage?" She managed to stutter at last, her brow furrowed in utter confusion, as if the thought of Sara having such an ailment was totally incomprehensible to her.

"It's not serious." Sara held up her hands quickly, seeing that she was already losing her friend. "It's less than three centimetres, which means there's no need for surgery."

Catherine barely heard the assurance, her mind still trying to work through the fact that Sara had a bleed on the brain. She wanted to give the girl a hug, to kiss her and tell her that she was going to be fine. She wanted to ask a hundred-and-one questions about what would happen next.

But only one question made its way out of her trembling lips.

"Why didn't you call me?"

Finn shifted uncomfortably at the unexpectedly vulnerability in her voice. She had guessed that Catherine wouldn't be too thrilled to see her, but she couldn't let Sara go home alone either. But she was clearly intruding on something personal right now.

"I'll leave you two to it." She cleared her throat, gathering her bag off the back of the couch where she had tossed it.

Catherine merely nodded, more than happy to let Finn leave; although she couldn't deny the tight knot in her stomach as the other woman leant across to wrap Sara into a tight hug.

X x x

"She's working too hard." Nick shook his head, lifting his coffee mug to his lips and taking a large mouthful. "She needs a break."

"She's been having headaches ever since the fall, Nick." Greg pointed out exasperatedly. "It's nothing to do with work."

"You know, that's another thing." The Texan snapped, whirling on his young mate. "'The Fall' – she jumped, Greg. And the longer we keep dancing around that fact, the long it'll take her to deal with it."

The boys had been getting on better recently, although their animosity was still simmering just beneath the surface. Most people in the lab would probably tell you that they had been expecting the pleasantries to fade eventually and the anger to bubble over into an argument.

And it would appear that that day was upon them, unless Morgan had a say in the matter.

"We might never know what really happened."She pointed out, holding her hands up between the two of them. "The important thing is that Sara gets the treatment she needs to get better – in every way. And she doesn't need you two squabbling over her like children."

"I concur." Russell commented from the threshold, with almost a hint of pride at his youngest CSI's efforts to keep the peace. "Morgan's right, Sara needs support, not this - this bickering that you two seem so inclined to lately."

"We're not bickering." Nick scowled. "I just don't think that pussy-footing around what happened is going to help matters."

"No one's pussy-footing Nick." Greg barked. "But reminding her what happened every day isn't exactly good for her either!"

"Alright!" DB bellowed sharply, effectively ending the spat. "_This_ is not good for her, or for the team. So…"

Placing a hand on the small of Morgan's back, he encouraged her towards the centre table and they both sat down. At the guys' bemused faces, he gestured for them to follow suit.

"We're going to sit and talk this out, like a family."

"Come on, Russ." Nick rolled his eyes in frustration. "A family meeting isn't going to fix this."

"Look, you guys can't possibly help Sara until you sort your own problems out." The boss explained calmly, gesticulating once again to the empty chairs. "So, if you please…"

X x x

Sara pursed her lips, waiting nervously for Catherine to say something.

An uncomfortable silence had befallen them since Finn released Sara from her embrace, but the brunette wasn't sure whether the awkward moment was the cause of Catherine's muteness or whether she was just mulling over her thoughts before voicing them.

"Why?" The older woman asked again after what felt like an age; her voice unexpectedly hoarse.

"I didn't know it was that serious." Sara explained, finally rounding the couch and sinking into the cushions. "I thought it was just a headache. I didn't want you breaking the speed limits to get to the hospital for nothing."

"But it's not nothing." Cath pressed, following her lead and joining her on the sofa. "It's a brain haemorrhage." The words still sounded wrong, like speaking with a foreign tongue. Sara couldn't have a brain haemorrhage. She was sat right here, she looked fine. She couldn't be in such a grave condition, surely?

"It's not as bad as it sounds." Sara stated, as if reading her mind. "They've given me some medication to bring it under control."

"Okay." Catherine nodded, taking a deep breath. "So, what happens now?"

"Well, I have to go back in a couple of days to make sure it's not getting any worse. Other than that, it's just a case of wait and see, really."

Cath sat forward, resting her hands on her knees as she considered this information.

"But the prognosis is good?"

"Yeah." Sara exhaled, glad they were getting somewhere. "I'm going to fine, Cat."

Catherine flicked her eyes up sharply, and for a moment Sara thought she'd stepped out of turn with the affectionate nickname.

"Yeah, but what if you hadn't been?" Cath asked, emotion seeping into her voice despite her best efforts to remain composed. "I wouldn't have known what was going on."

"You're really upset about this?" Sara realised, her expression contorting into a frown.

"Well, yeah." She shrugged as if it was obvious. "I want to know what's going on in your life, Sara. I want to be there to support you."

"I know." Sara turned to face her, taking her hand and interlocking their fingers carefully. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to shut you out. I just didn't want to worry you unnecessarily."

"I know baby." Cath smiled sadly, tucking a strand of dark hair behind Sara's ear and letting her fingers linger for a moment longer on her temple. "You just need to remember that I'm not Grissom. I want to be involved, emotionally and otherwise."

Sara smiled, nodding in understanding.

"I appreciate that." She murmured, leaning into the touch. "I'm sorry."

Catherine finally dropped her hand, replacing it with her lips. Sara shifted, capturing Catherine's mouth with her own in a tender kiss. The movement caught the strawberry-blonde of guard, but she quickly reciprocated.

There was still a lot for them to talk about, but she figured it could wait a few minutes longer.

X x x

Finn was relieved to see that the team were all still there upon her return to the lab. She found them sitting around the bench in the break room, although she was far too stressed out to pick up on the tension oozing from the group as she breezed into the room.

"Well?" Nick was the first out of his seat, his eyebrows raised in hope.

"It's a haemorrhage." She swallowed around the word, hearing her own voice shake in her ears.

"I was hoping you weren't going to say that." DB muttered, shaking his head slowly.

"What kind?" Doc Robbins pressed from the hall, having been watching for the blonde CSI's return. In comparison to the horror-stricken looks of the others, he remained oddly unaffected by the diagnosis.

"An intercerebral bleed." She answered. "But they assured us that she should be okay. It's only small and they gave her something to control it. She has to go back in a couple of days for a review and in the meantime she needs to be very careful."

"Damnit." Nick growled, turning around and kicking the leg of the table in frustration. "I knew it was too soon for her to be back at work."

"Now, calm down Nick." DB chastised. "We don't know what's caused this."

"He's right Nicky." Robbins added. "Delayed bleeds are common in Sara's kind of injury. It doesn't have to be serious, as long as she receives suitable medical treatment."

"That's not the point." He erupted. "She's trying to do too much at once. She should be at home, resting, with her … her family." He amended weakly, barely stopping himself from uttering the word that had been on the tip of his tongue.

"It wasn't our decision to make, Nick." Greg pointed out as calmly as his current anxiety would allow. "She wanted to come back."

"Yeah, well I think it's pretty clear that Sara doesn't know what she wants right now." He spat bitterly.

"You know, I'm kind of inclined to agree with that." Finn added hesitantly, to the surprise of the rest of the room. "I just think she might be a bit … confused right now. And I think she needs some time to just rest up."

Morgan, the only one in the room to catch her second meaning, caught her eye and cocked her head to the side in question. The silent conversation passing between their eyes went unnoticed by the men, but it was clear that Finn knew something she didn't. However that would be a conversation for another time, when they were in private.

DB finally hauled himself out of his seat, striding to the door.

"I'll call Conrad, see if we can work something out." He paused, flashing his guys a meaningful look. "As for you two, we're not done here yet."

X x x

"Sar," Cath drawled, stirring her tea lazily as she ambled back into the lounge.

"Hmm?"

"Have you ever talked to your mother about your childhood? I mean, really talked about it."

Sara cracked a sleepy eye open.

"This is going to be a long conversation isn't it?" She realised aloud with a heavy sigh.

Catherine smiled, dropping down beside her in silent answer to the despondent question. Sara blinked tiredly and shuffled out of her slouched position.

"I was just thinking that you and she have one big thing in common: your father."

"You mean the fact that he beat the crap out of us both?" She paraphrased bluntly.

"Okay." Cath pursed her lips. That had essentially been what she was getting at, but she wouldn't have phrased it quite like that. "I just thought it could help you to work out some of your demons, since you so adamantly don't want to talk to a therapist."

Sara considered it for a long moment, before nodding slowly.

"I would like to spend more time with her." She confessed at last. "But it's not easy. It's not like she can stay with me for a few days when I'm working all the time because I couldn't leave her on her own."

"Maybe you could invite her to the lab?" Cath suggested, stretching her arm across the back of the sofa and tangling her fingers in Sara's hair. "I'm sure she'd love to see where you spend all your time."

Would Laura want to see the lab? She would probably enjoy the day out, and it would be nice for her to understand a bit more about Sara's life, she realised.

"Would you come too?" The brunette asked, shooting Cath a hopeful look.

"Me?"

"Well, you said you want to be part of my life and … my mother is a part of my life."

A slow smile spread across Cath's lips and she nodded imperceptibly at the offer. She had already met Laura, of course, but spending time with her outside of a hospital would be a good opportunity to get to know her and not one Catherine would pass up.

"I'd love to." She beamed, pulling Sara in for a quick kiss. "Maybe she can give me some tips on how to combat your stubborn streak."

Sara laughed, slinking back down the cushions and letting her eyes drift closed again.

"I wouldn't bet on it." She countered easily. "Where do you think I get it from?"


	41. Some visitor', I muttered

**There will be more Laura in the next chapter as well :) And Catherine will also be in the next chapter**

**x x x x**

She wrapped her arms around herself protectively, casting fervent glances down the hall. She always felt nervous in new places, especially somewhere so … clinical.

Her daughter, in contrast, looked more relaxed than Laura had ever seen her. She was occupied filling out the visitor forms, idly joking with the young receptionist as she did so.

"Laura, hi." A friendly voice piped up from towards her left and she turned to find the spiky-haired male she had first met at the hospital grinning at her.

"Hi." She smiled brightly, relieved to see another familiar face. Sara, too, had heard the voice and turned to face them.

"Hey Greg." She beamed.

Greg; that sounded familiar. Sara had talked about him a lot over the years. As far as Laura could tell, they must be very close.

"You on a tour?" He asked, sidling up to Sara's side and slinging an arm around her shoulders.

"I thought it was time mom saw where I work." She answered his enquiry with a shrug and a half-smile.

"Well, as much as I'd love to stick around and give you the uncensored version," he winked at the older woman playfully, "I've got a dead body waiting for me in Henderson."

Releasing Sara; he slipped between them, raised a hand in greeting to the receptionist - who visibly blushed at the gesture - and disappeared through the large glass doors into the sun-lit parking lot.

Sara handed her mother a visitors' pass and nodded towards the winding corridor.

"So, this is your office?" Laura mumbled, glimpsing brief glances into each glass-walled room they passed.

Sara laughed softly, dragging a lazy hand through her hair and causing the waves to ripple and spill over her shoulders. It took all of Laura's self-control not to reach out and put the stray locks back in place, but she managed to remember where they were and kept her hands at her side. It was a habit Sara had chided her for time and again since the day she was born, complete with a head full of dark curls.

"I don't actually have an office of my own," Sara answered easily. "Although I do have a lab that I work out of."

"What she means," an amused voice interrupted from behind, "is that she adopted one of the labs as her own."

Sara turned on her heel, flashing Nick a sarcastic grin. Laura, too, turned and smiled at the teasing remark.

"Hey Laura," he greeted cheerfully. "It's nice to see you again."

"And you." She smiled, leaning automatically into Sara's side. "I never realised how big this place was."

"Yeah, yeah it's a bit of a maze." He agreed. "But I'm sure Sara'll look after you. Just don't let her near the case files or you'll never get her back."

Laura sent her daughter an understanding smile, but Sara was too busy pulling a face at her friend to notice.

"Well I was going to ask if you wanted to join us," she mocked playfully, "but now I'm not so sure."

He laughed, a smooth distinctly southern laugh, and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Maybe later, right now I've got a stack of case reports with my name on it."

As he drifted off in the way he had come, Laura leant closer to Sara and lowered her voice.

"He reminds me a little of your brother." She noted with an unmissible touch of sadness.

"Really?" Sara frowned, cocking her head to the side in an attempt to see the similarity. "I always thought Warrick was more like Jack."

Shaking the thought away, she placed a hand on her mom's arm and tugged her into the nearest office.

X x x

"I don't know." DB shook his head slowly despondently, taking off his glasses and rubbing his tired eyes. "I just don't know what to do anymore."

"Well," Finn pursed her lips, resting her hands on the desk. "You can't go wrong with diamonds?"

"Yeah I guess." He conceded. "But I wanted to do something special, you know. And besides, Barbara isn't a 'diamond' kind of woman."

"Oh, trust me." Finn chuckled. "Every woman is a diamond kind of woman."

The sound of someone clearing their throat softly drew their attention to the door and they both glanced up to find Sara smiling at them. Over her shoulder, an older woman was lurking anxiously in the threshold.

DB immediately pushed himself out of his chair and rounded the desk, extending a hand to the woman.

"Hi, you must be Laura." He greeted warmly. "This is Julie Finlay."

"Finn." The blonde corrected, sending him a pointed look. "Hi, it's lovely to finally meet you."

"Likewise." Laura replied politely, surveying the office. Sara had warned her that her boss was a little … odd, but she hadn't been expecting to see a tank of mushrooms growing beneath a stack of encyclopaedias.

Oblivious to her startled bemusement, Russell continued to regard her carefully, tapping his glasses to his chin.

"Hey, Laura let me ask you something – what would be the ideal present for a woman in her fifties?"

Laura cast an uncertain glance at Sara, who was also frowning at the man.

"Barbara's birthday coming up?" She guessed, quirking an eyebrow.

"No, no my wedding anniversary." He corrected morosely. "And I'm stumped. I know she's expecting something special."

"I told you, diamonds." Finn laughed, looking to Sara for agreement.

"Or a spa day?" The brunette suggested with a shrug. "If she's into that sort of thing."

"See, now we're talking." He grinned, patting Sara on the arm and practically skipping back around his desk to make a note of the idea.

"Well, I've got a car to process." Finn breathed, clasping Laura's hand tightly for a moment. "It was lovely to meet you."

To Laura's surprise, before the woman left she wrapped an arm around Sara's shoulders and pressed a light kiss to her cheek.

So far that made four people who had demonstrated some kind of affection towards her daughter, and they'd only been here for ten minutes.

X x x

"Everyone's so busy here." She noted, dodging out of the way of a speeding man in a white coat. He raised a hand in greeting to Sara, an action which she mirrored, before vanishing into a lab.

"Yeah, it can get pretty manic at times." Sara agreed idly, rolling her shoulders. It was something Laura had caught her doing more than once today and she made a mental note to question the movement later, when they were alone.

She knew she wouldn't get a straight answer out of Sara when there were so many people around.

"Everyone seems very nice." She said instead, pausing to study their incoming-cases notice board.

"They are nice." Sara agreed. "I work with good people."

"I can see that." Laura smiled wistfully. She had always worried about Sara – what mother doesn't worry about her child, especially when said child carries a gun for a living. But being here today had made her realise that many of her fears were unfounded.

Sara was happy, and she was surrounded by people who obviously loved her dearly.

That was a hell of a lot more than she'd had growing up.

And it meant that she'd obviously done something right, even if she was never going to win Mother Of The Year.

Of course, Sara was only one half of the story. And the other half was lying on a cold slab somewhere in this labyrinth of sterile rooms.

"Sara." Laura caught her arm and dragged her to a stop. "I…"

The CSI frowned, picking up on her mother's sudden change in demeanour. She had been worried that this trip might be too overwhelming, especially given all the stress she'd undergone with recent events, but she'd expected at least a little more warning before the breakdown came.

"What's wrong?" She asked, moving them to a quieter part of the corridor. "Mom? You okay?"

Laura took an unsteady breath in an effort to compose herself, but the only effect it had was to further highlight her anxiety. Trying again, she managed to stutter out a few words.

"I want to see Jack."

Slowly, all colour drained from Sara's face and her eyes went wide. Her mother knew, of course, that he was still here. They hadn't finalised all the funeral plans yet, and Doc had assured her that there was no rush.

Still, it hadn't occurred to her that Laura might actually want to see his body.

"Are you sure about that?" She pursed her lips, ensuring to keep her voice as calm as her nerves would allow.

"He is still here, right?" She asked, flicking her eyes over Sara's shoulders as if he was just going to stroll out of the men's bathroom.

"Yeah, he is." Sara agreed softly, shuffling uncomfortably on the spot. "Mom…"

"Have you seen him?"

"No." She cleared her throat, letting her gaze fall to the floor sadly. "No, I … I couldn't do it."

Laura nodded slowly, considering this. She knew that her daughter saw death on a daily basis. If she couldn't deal with it, was that a sign that Laura should take the hint? Then again, it was Sara's brother in that drawer - that was not the same as seeing a stranger lying there.

But it wasn't exactly Laura's first time seeing a dead body either.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened up and offered a firm nod.

"I want to see him."


	42. The angels names Lenore

**I'll try to keep on top of updates but have just got a job and am in the middle of moving to a new city, so things are a bit hectic at the moment. Extra long chapter this time, to make up for the wait. **

**x x x x**

Doc Robbins had almost been expecting this request when he'd heard that Laura Sidle was gracing the lab with her presence today.

He'd managed to dissuade Sara from seeing Jack's corpse – something which, he was pleasantly surprised to find, did not take a great deal of effort.

Sara had seen enough stabbing victims to know what was lying under that sheet.

But Laura was adamant and Sara assured him that arguing would be futile.

He had to admit that he was flummoxed by the older Sidle. At first glance, she appeared fragile and timid; but one look into those narrowed eyes showed a shrewd, determined woman who was not one to be discouraged easily once her mind was made up.

Not, he noted, unlike her daughter.

Said daughter had elected to wait outside, although to be honest Doc Robbins would have rather not left her alone given how pale she had turned. He was hoping it was due to concern for her mother's mental state, and not another haemorrhage taking hold.

"Ms Sidle," he coughed quietly, his hand resting on the drawer handle. "Are you sure you're okay to do this?"

"I lost him once before, Doctor Robbins." Laura explained hoarsely, her unwavering stare fixated on the square panel behind which lay her son. "The least I can do this time is say goodbye."

Nodding in understanding – or resignation – he swung the heavy metal door open and slid the drawer out. He caught sight of Laura wincing at the harsh sound as it locked into place, but elected not to call her on her obvious discomfort.

Gently peeling the sheet back, he tucked it carefully around Jack's shoulders in a deliberate attempt to hide the autopsy scars.

Laura slipped in front of him as he stepped aside, his head ducked out of respect.

"Oh." The sad noise was all Laura managed to get out at first sight. Shuffling closer, she wrapped one arm around her stomach and reached the other towards her son's body, barely touching his unruly hair with a shaky hand. "My boy."

Al stayed well back, giving her some time. A part of him wanted to go out and check on Sara, but he could just make out her figure on the other side of the door and judging by her anxious pacing she seemed to be holding it together.

"I'm sorry." The whispered apology drew his gaze back to the despondent woman in his midst. She had submerged her hand into Jack's tangled locks and the other was resting over his still heart. The scene was touching, yet undeniably bittersweet. She'd finally got him back after so many years, but there was nothing more for her to do now than to let him go.

"I'm so sorry, my baby boy."

X x x

"Oh, hey." Catherine drawled, leaning casually against the doorframe, as if she had never even left these familiar halls. "Have you seen Sara?"

"Yeah." Finn cleared her throat, her attention still focussed on her work. "Yeah, she's showing her mom round. I think they're in the morgue."

"The morgue?" Cath echoed, her startled tone finally getting Finn's attention.

"Laura wanted to see Jack's body." She explained. "Sara's taken her down to talk to Al."

Catherine straightened up, a mix of confusion and worry battling for supremacy on her face.

"I thought Sara wasn't going to put herself through that." She mumbled, more to herself than to the other woman.

"I don't know that she is. I think she's just taking Laura." Jules narrowed her eyes at Cath, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Sara's a tough woman, you know. She can handle more than you give her credit for."

Cath's head snapped back up, indignation flaring in her blue eyes. "How do you know what Sara can handle?" She scoffed sceptically.

"I know you're protective of your guys." Finn commented with a knowing smile, folding her hands on the counter. "That was actually one of the first things I found out about you."

"Really?" Catherine hummed, clearly not impressed by her companion's attempt at psycho-analysis. "The first thing I found out about you was that you threatened to take a chainsaw to a mobile home."

Finn's lips spread into a grin and she offered a nonchalant shrug at the remark.

"I was making a point." She explained easily. "What I'm trying to get at is that I know you care about them; but I'm not a threat."

"I never said you were." Cath pointed out, nonplussed.

"Maybe not out loud." Finn challenged. "Look, I promise I am not going to make a move on Sara, or try to steal her away." She half-joked, sending the red-head what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "I actually think that you're good for her."

Catherine didn't seem to know how to take the statement. Her eyes narrowed, she stared at Finn for a long moment before backing towards the door.

"I need to find Sara." She muttered, leaving Julie to shake her head in amusement at her sullen muteness.

She didn't know if that had helped things between them, or just made them worse; but it was a development either way.

X x x

"I always knew I'd lose him one day." She acknowledged sadly, shaking her head. "From the minute he was born, he was fighting against life. He stopped breathing twice in the first hour. He fought against everything that ever came his way."

She released a deep breath, tipping her head towards the ceiling. Doc hadn't managed to establish yet whether she was talking to him or to herself, so he kept well back and just let her thoughts flow.

"I knew that he wasn't mine to keep. I could only hope that I would still be around to say goodbye when it was time to let him go."

She leant down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, letting a single tear trickle down her face and drop onto his pale skin.

"I'm very sorry for your loss, Ms Sidle." He answered at last, almost numbly.

She finally turned away from her son, facing the coroner with expressive eyes that were so eerily familiar he almost couldn't bear to look into them.

"There are so many things I wish I had done differently," she sighed. "And most of them I can't change now. I wish I could have changed things with Jack, I wish I could have stopped him from turning out like me. But I always thought I'd got one thing right."

"Sara." Doc guessed, furrowing his brow; his blue eyes automatically flicking to the door.

"Yeah." She nodded slowly, licking her dry lips. "But now … she's barely holding on herself, and she won't talk to me about what's going through her head."

"Ms Sidle," The coroner cleared his throat, clicking carefully towards her. "If there's one thing I know about your daughter, it's that she's a fighter."

Laura smiled again, that ghostly smile that looked so familiar and yet oddly foreign to the physician.

"She always was. Even when her father used to get angry, she wouldn't run away. She would stand her ground … no matter what he did to her." She swallowed, blinking back tears. "I just want her to be okay."

"She will be." He promised; having finally reached her, he lay a comforting hand on her arm. "Because she's got too many people on her side not to be."

X x x

"Hey." Cath cleared her throat, approaching the woman as quietly as her heels on the tiled floor would let her.

Sara lifted her head slowly, and even from the distance between them Cath could see the dried tear tracks on her face.

"Hi." She squeaked. "How did you find us?"

"Finn told me." She explained, ambling down the cool corridor where she joined her in leaning against the wall. "Have you seen him?"

Sara shook her head, exhaling slowly.

"No, I … I didn't want to."

"That's okay." Cath slipped her hand into the brunette's and squeezed it gently. "You doing okay?"

"Honestly … I don't know." She shrugged, wiping furtively at her eyes. "I didn't think it would be this hard."

She didn't specify what she was talking about and Catherine decided that now wasn't the time to question it.

Sara pulled her hand free, moving to drag it through her hair before seemingly reconsidering and letting it fall limply to her side.

"I need to get some air." She mumbled weakly. "Could you wait here for mom?"

"Yeah, sure." Cath nodded, concern creeping onto her face. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, yeah…" Sara was already feeling her way down the corridor, using the stone wall for support. Cath wanted to follow her; but before she had chance, the morgue doors swung open and a whoosh of cold air swirled into the vacant basement hallway.

X x x

"Oh, hi." She did a double take, scanning the otherwise-empty hallway. "Where's Sara?" There was a touch of nervousness to her voice that suggested she was not altogether comfortable without her daughter by her side, and Cath offered a warm smile in an attempt to sooth some of her fears.

"She just went outside for some fresh air. She'll be back in a few minutes." She nodded towards the stairs and the two of them made their way back to the main part of the lab. Cath deliberately kept her pace slow, making the most of her private time with the older woman.

"You know, I'm glad I got you alone." She cleared her throat softly. "I wanted to talk to you, um, about Sara."

"Is she alright?" Laura asked instantly. "Something's wrong isn't it?"

"No, nothing's wrong." Cath assured her, smiling knowingly at the instinctively maternal reaction. "I just …" she took a deep breath. She had been preparing for this conversation for a while, but now it came to it she felt like a nervous teenager again. "I really like Sara. And we've grown very close lately. Very close." She chewed on the inside of her cheek, hoping her point had been recieved. "I guess I just wanted to let you know, and to see what you thought of it."

Laura touched her arm lightly, bringing them to a stop at the bottom of the stairs.

"Ms Willows. I've spent time in prison. I've seen what being lonely does to people." She tipped her head back, letting her eyes drift closed. "I want Sara to be happy. And if you think you can make her happy, that's alright with me."

Catherine released a breath she hadn't realised she was holding and smiled softly.

"I'm going to do my best."

X x x

"Seriously?" Morgan asked. "She said that?"

"Not in so many words, but the daggers in her eyes spoke volumes."

Morgan's chortling was cut short when they swept into the break room and spotted the occupants.

"Oh, hey." Finn smiled brightly. "You lost Sara already?"

"She's outside talking to Catherine." Nick explained, "so I said I'd keep Laura company."

"I hope that's Greg's coffee." Morgan commented, pointing to the cup clasped in the visitor's hands.

"Laura, have you met Morgan?" Finn asked suddenly, gesturing to the younger blonde.

"Hi, it's lovely to meet you." Morgan smiled, sliding onto the seat next to the woman. Due undoubtably to her instrinsic sense of curiosity, she had been dying to meet Laura ever since they'd discovered that newspaper article detailing her gruesome crime. "So, are you staying with Sara?"

"No, I'm just on day release." She explained frankly, taking a long sip of her coffee. "I've always wanted to see where she works; this place is all she ever talks about. And you all, of course."

"Well, I'm not surprised." Finn chuckled softly, joining them at the bench. "She practically lives here."

"Yeah, Catherine used to be forever telling her to go home or take a break." Morgan joined in.

"I bet that was effective." Finn added sarcastically.

"Yeah, not really." Nick laughed. "Sara used to lab-hop to hide from her. She could go hours without ever being caught."

"Well, since when was she one to follow the rules?" The idle comment, mumbled over the top of the coffee mug, drew an amused laugh from the CSIs; not least because of who it had come from.

"So, I take it she hasn't changed much since she was a kid?" Finn asked, settling herself opposite Laura.

"She hasn't changed at all." Laura shrugged, glad that Sara's colleagues were taking an interest in her. She was never one to pass up an opportunity to talk about her daughter; something which the nurses at the care facility knew all too well. "She's still as stubborn as she always was. And intelligent." She paused, cocking her head to the side. "I never did know where she got that from."

"Got what from?" The very woman asked, wandering into the room with a suspicious frown.

"Never you mind." Nick flashed a playful grin. She narrowed her eyes at him, but shrugged the remark off, deciding that she probably didn't want to hear the answer anyway.

Laura smiled up at her, considerably more relaxed than she had been when she'd first walked into the building.

She still hadn't sussed out what Sara was hiding from her, but it was clear that she wasn't alone in dealing with whatever it might be. That was comfort enough for now.


	43. I stood there wondering

**Had a bad day, so thought I'd write an update to cheer myself up. I hope it makes your day better too :)**

**And look … no cliffhanger! :D**

**x x x x**

"So," Cath breathed, tossing her hairbrush onto the chest of drawers and sweeping towards the bed, her long silk pyjamas trailing across the carpeted floor. "Today went pretty well, huh?"

"Mm" was Sara's eloquent response, so absorbed was she in the book propped against her folded legs as she curled next to the headboard.

With a smile, Cath slipped between the sheets and snuggled against her, laying her head on the woman's shoulder and peering up at her with large, bright eyes.

"Sara," she sang sweetly. "Talk to me."

The brunette finally tore her attention away from her pages to blink at her.

"What's wrong?" She asked, having only heard half of the request. Catherine smiled knowingly, well aware of how dissociative Sara could become when engrossed in a good novel.

"You know what's wrong." She pointed out. "Did you tell your mother?"

With a familiar eye-roll, Sara leant over and put her book on the bedside table; enabling her to give her girlfriend her full attention. She had learnt that there were some conversations she could not easily get out of, and it was not worth her effort tonight.

"I take it from that look that it's a no?" Cath guessed, quirking an eyebrow. In truth, she already knew the answer. She had asked a few well-placed questions of Laura to determine how much she already knew.

"No, I didn't." Sara agreed, pursing her lips tightly. "So shoot me."

"She knows something's wrong." Cath pointed out. "She's worried about you."

"I know." Sara breathed. "But do you really think telling her the truth would change that?"

"At least she would know _what_ she was worried about." Catherine shrugged. "That's better than what her imagination might be conjuring up."

"I guess." Sara moped, pulling her knees up to her chest and folding her arms around them protectively. "I just don't want to stress her out until I've had my review."

"And then you'll tell her?" Cath pressed.

"If I have to." Sara scowled, biting back a tight smile. She knew that the blonde was only trying to help, but she had never liked being coerced into things.

"Well," Catherine smiled, darting forward to peck her lips. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

Sara nodded, glad the conversation was being dropped. She reached beside her to click off the lamp before Cat could find something else to persuade her into.

They shuffled down the bed and cuddled together beneath the covers. As she had taken to doing lately, Catherine slipped her hand under Sara's shirt and lay it over her heart, her fingertips doodling small relaxing circles where it came to rest. Sara felt so delicate in her arms; if she held her tight enough, she could feel every damaged bone in her frame.

They still hadn't crossed any lines yet, although that decision was playing on the strawberry-blonde's mind more and more with every passing day.

Initially she had just been revelling in the luxury of being close to Sara, but now that the woman was getting a bit stronger, she was beginning to crave her touch.

Of course, nothing would happen until they had an update of her brain haemorrhage.

She had waited thirteen years; she supposed that she could wait a few more days.

X x x

Laura had always hated the phrase 'lights out'. She hated it in prison and she hated it even more in here.

It felt far too much like a boarding school. Not that she would know; her family never had that kind of money to throw around.

As, one by one, the rooms went dark and the chatter fell to an eerie hush, Laura folded her arms beneath her head and stared up at the stained and cracked ceiling.

It had been a nice change to her usual repetitive routine to get out and see the crime lab today. And it had been especially nice to spend some time with Sara, outside of the care facility.

She had to admit that she was somewhat shocked by the sight of Jack's body. She knew he'd gone off the rails and fallen into drug abuse, but he'd looked so gaunt. Even in death, he managed to look pained. She could only hope that his soul had found peace, wherever it might be now, even if his body hadn't.

She had often wondered the same thing after she had killed Angelo. Had he found peace? Had he gone somewhere better than this world?

Her mother would have said that he was burning in the fiery pit of Hell. Needless to say, they hadn't really got on. That's probably what had spurred her into marrying him.

True, he hadn't been a saint by any means; but he had been born with nothing and spent his whole life fighting against the system. In many ways, his life was planned out before he could even do anything about it.

Laura had often thought the same of her own children – that their whole lives were to be determined by their tormented childhood. In Jack's case, that prediction had been pretty accurate. But not Sara.

Sara had fought back, and won.

That was the most striking thing about being at the lab today: seeing how everybody cared for her. They looked out for her, like a proper family should.

The boss – the older guy with white hair and cheerful eyes - had looked at her with such paternal care. There was, without a doubt, more affection in those blue orbs than Angela ever had ever shown towards Sara.

And then there was Catherine. Laura had no doubt in her mind that if they could make a go of it, Sara would be fine.

Of course, that didn't mean she was going to give up trying to find out what her daughter was hiding from her. That was a conversation for another day, though.

X x x

"Laura seemed nice." Morgan commented, taking a bite of her late breakfast.

More like brunch really.

"Yeah, yeah she is." Finn agreed, sleep deprivation seeping into her voice as well as her body language. "She's a lot like Sara. They have the same sense of humour."

"Yeah." Morgan grinned, recalling her own encounter with the elder Sidle. "She wasn't what I expected. She was much more … lucid, I guess."

"Well, she is on medication so her symptoms should be under control."

"True." Morgan hummed, knocking back the last dregs of her coffee and holding up the mug for the waitress to refill. "I guess I just wasn't expecting her to be so 'normal'." She made quotation marks with her fingers. "I know that probably sounds wrong…"

"No, I see what you mean." Finn shrugged. "If you didn't know she had schizophrenia before you met her then you'd never guess."

"I just can't see her murdering her husband." The younger blonde continued with a small frown. "She seems too … sweet. She's hardly a bloodthirsty killer."

"She was abused. It can make people do unexpected things sometimes." Finn explained, dropping her gaze to her own breakfast. She'd been hungry when they'd left the lab, but now she'd lost her appetite somewhat. Right now, she just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep. "You have to feel for her though, she's been dealt a bad hand in life."

"Yeah." Morgan exhaled, pushing her own plate aside and lounging across the table lazily. "And Sara: I mean, she was raised in that house, and in foster care. And now she's had to spend her whole adult life looking after Laura. That can't have been easy."

"No." Finn cleared her throat uncomfortably, dragging a hand through her short blonde tresses. "No, it can't. But the important thing is that she's not dealing with it on her own anymore."


	44. Streaming throws his shadow

**Nearly at the end of the story now, just wrapping things up. Will be either 2 or 3 more chapters x**

**x x x x**

"Stop fidgeting." Catherine chastised softly, gripping Sara's hands to still the nervous actions.

"Sorry." She murmured, casting intermittent glances across the waiting area towards the closed consultation room door. "I just hate hanging around in places like this. It makes me anxious."

"You'll bust a stitch." Cath commented dryly, releasing her girlfriend just long enough to turn the page of her magazine.

Vogue. July 2002. She'd probably already read it, but what the hell, there was nothing else to do right now and shoes were shoes; regardless of how old they were.

She had attempted to encourage Sara to follow her lead in the hopes it might relax the brunette a bit. Initially she thought it was working too, until Sara began absently tearing the pages into tiny shreds, prompting Cath to confiscate the reading material again.

Finally the door opened and a middle-aged man in a white coat nodded towards them.

Sara released a deep breath, moving to her feet in one swift motion. Cath slipped her hand into Sara's and squeezed it gently, tugging her towards the small office.

Deep breaths, she reminded her quietly as they shuffled through the door together. It was all going to be fine.

It had to be.

X x x

Sara didn't even wait for her to kill the engine before she was out of the car and halfway up the drive.

By the time Catherine caught up to her, she'd settled herself at the kitchen counter with a bottle of water which she didn't seem to have any intention of actually opening; choosing instead to pass it idly from one hand to the other.

"You okay?" Cath enquired as she crept tentatively closer. It was, she realised, the first words either of them had uttered since leaving the consultation room.

"Fine." Sara answered calmly, though Catherine could see the muscles in her back twitching through her thin, figure-hugging t-shirt.

She moved closer, wrapping Sara into a hug from behind, resting her chin on the younger woman's shoulder.

"Hey, it's good news. Right?" She mumbled, her breath grazing the sensitive skin of Sara's neck.

"Yeah, yeah it is." Sara agreed, leaning back into the embrace. "It's great news."

"Then maybe you should tell your face." Cat joked softly, nuzzling her jaw line. The remark drew a small smile from Sara and her body relaxed a little.

"Sorry." She acknowledged. "I just feel a bit … weird."

"Weird?"

"Yeah. I don't know, I just … I need to think." She tried to push herself off the stool but found herself restrained by her girlfriend's firm hold.

"Okay." Catherine frowned, reluctantly releasing her with a light kiss on the cheek. "Well, I'm here … you know, if you need to talk."

Sara smiled gratefully, snatching her unopened drink and sloping into the back yard with it.

Cath claimed her vacant seat and propped her head up on the bench, a sad look making itself at home on her features as she mused the CSI's peculiar mood. She had suspected that something was playing on her mind all day, but she assumed it was the hospital appointment.

Evidently, she had been wrong.

X x x

Jim almost fell out of his chair at the urgent voice responding to his own droned greeting when he picked up the phone.

"Hey Gil." He coughed, clearing his throat as he repositioned himself in his seat. "Everything okay?"

"_Has Sara had her test results back yet?"_ No preamble, no small talk: straight to the point. It was like they'd gone back ten years.

"Uh, I don't know." Brass frowned. "Why don't you phone her, or Catherine?"

He could practically see the entomologist shifting his weight uncomfortably at the thought of speaking to either woman right now.

"_No, I … I don't think I should."_ Came the awkward answer at last, just as Brass had expected. _"When she gets them, will you call me?" _

"Sure." Jim promised. "Sure, I'll give you a call. So, how's things…"

"_Great, thanks." _

The irritatingly recognizable dial-tone trilled down the line, as the end of Jim's sentence still hung on the tip of his tongue.

"Okay then." He snapped his mouth shut, dropping the phone back into its cradle and staring at it pensively for a long moment.

X x x

"Hey." Cath bounced off the stool at the sound of the back door opening, hesitantly gesturing for Sara to join her in the living room. "Come here, I want to talk to you."

"This sounds ominous." Sara noted with a hint of trepidation as she made her way towards the couch. She appeared to have relaxed somewhat since her earlier unpredictable mood, and even had a bit of colour in her cheeks. Clearly, her time thinking in the sun had been well spent.

"It's nothing bad." Cath assured her gently, clearing her throat. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine." Sara promised. "About earlier, I was …"

"It's okay." Catherine held up her hands to silence her, chewing on her lower lip as she contemplated her already-rehearsed spiel. "I understand that just because the test results were good doesn't mean that it's all alright now. I know it's still going to take some time before you feel yourself again."

"Okay." Sara nodded slowly. Evidently Catherine had been doing some thinking of her own.

"And, on that note, I want to help." The strawberry-blonde added, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. "I want you to talk to me, to tell me what's going through your head."

"Cat…"

"Just hear me out." She held up her hands again. "I don't care how you do it; I just want you to find a way to open up: whatever works for you."

"Cat, I'm not suicidal." Sara scowled. "I don't need a minder."

"I know hon, that's not what I'm saying." Cath amended, a little taken aback by the bluntness of the statement. "We're just worried, honey. We love you so much; we don't want to see you get hurt again."

"I know that, but…" Sara trailed off, quirking a questioning eyebrow. "We? Who's we?"

"All of us." Cat shrugged, internally cursing herself for her slip-up. "Nobody wants to see you hurt again."

"You've been talking to my mother." Sara realised aloud. The guilty smile on Catherine's lips confirmed her suspicions and the older criminalist shrugged meekly.

"She's worried about you; I'm worried. I just want to know that you're okay."

Sara opened her mouth to say something, but seemed to rethink it. Finally, she turned to her partner with an unexpected calmness.

"So, you just want to know what's on my mind?"

"Yeah." She smiled, relieved that Sara was starting to understand her side of things. "I don't want you to feel like you're under scrutiny or anything, just as long as I know that you're doing okay. And where you are – so I know where to find you when pull one of your disappearing acts."

The second part was added jovially, although there was a hint of truth to her words. She notoriously didn't like it when she couldn't find Sara somewhere in the lab, and things were no different at home.

"What if I don't know where I'm going?" Sara pointed out, playing along with the half-joke.

"Then text me when you decide." Cath rolled eyes, slapping her knee lightly with the back of her hand.

"What if I just want to go for a walk?"

"Yeah, well look what happened last time you 'went for a walk'."

She saw the corners of the brunette's lips turn into a smile at the light-hearted quip and relaxed slightly, taking her cue from her girlfriend. They had talked about the event often enough now that she felt secure enough making such comments without risk of causing offence, but it was always nice to have some sign from Sara that she was okay with it too.

Deciding it was best to end the conversation on a high note, she darted forwards to steal a quick kiss.

"I love you." She murmured against Sara's lips. "You going to get any sleep before your shift starts?"

"No, not yet." Sara breathed, rocking to her feet. "I have one more thing I need to do first."

Catherine watched her with an understanding grin as she snatched up the phone and ambled into the kitchen with it.

"Mom, hey." She inhaled deeply, leaning her back against the kitchen counter. "No, no I'm fine." She pursed her lips, catching Cath's eye across the room and offering a small nod. "That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about."


	45. Back into the tempest

**I was going to do this in two chapters but I couldn't decide where to split it so you've got it as one :)  
**

**x x x x**

"Caramel latte, please." She stifled a yawn with one hand, sliding the money across the counter with the other. She'd been so busy at work today, helping to get the newly formed forensic commission under control.

It didn't help that she hadn't slept very well the night before. Sara had been at work, so she'd been left in the company of her own thoughts; which were running a mile a minute with everything that had been going on lately.

Sara had been more settled when she'd come home from work this morning, which could be a delayed effect of getting the results of her test back, or it could have simply been exhaustion after a busy shift. Unfortunately, she was left to guess which one was more likely, since Sara had crashed out as soon as she got in.

As her coffee arrived, Catherine snatched it up with a mumbled thank you and sloped towards the door when her cell phone vibrated against her hip with a new text message.

It was from Sara.

An instinctive smile playing on her lips at seeing the name flash up, she tapped her manicured nail against the little screen.

_Shower song ~ Amanda Kaletsky _

She came to a stop in the middle of the store, scowling down at the cryptic message.

She scanned it again to see if she'd missed something; but no.

There was no greeting, no message. Just a song title.

X x x

Slipping her phone back into her pocket with a sly smile, she turned her attention back to her working companion.

"Sorry about that." She offered.

"No problem." Nick brushed it off, his attention still fixed on the table of evidence. "Thanks for coming in to help."

"No problem." She echoed. "After everything you've done for me lately, I think I owe you a few extra shifts." She didn't elaborate, but he caught the grateful look she sent him and smiled in understanding.

"Well, if you can help me crack this case I say we can call it even." He hummed, narrowing his eyes at the folder sat before him.

Never one to pass up an interesting puzzle, she had jumped at the chance to help. However, scientific curiosity was not her only motive for taking this opportunity.

"Hey." She cleared her throat, checking they were really alone. "There's something I've wanted to give you for a while." Delving into her pocket, she produced a familiar item and held it up, bringing a wide grin to Nick's face.

He moved to take it from her but paused, letting his hand drop to his side.

"No, no you should keep it."

Rolling her eyes, she gripped his wrist lightly and placed the ring into his palm.

"Warrick would want you to have it." She pointed out. "Besides, it fits you better."

With a grateful nod, he slipped the ring back onto his finger and clenched his fist tightly. He hadn't even realised how much he'd missed wearing it until it was back on. It felt right.

"You know, I've made an appointment with the office shrink." He mumbled, flicking his dark eyes up to catch her gaze.

She cocked her head to the side, silently encouraging him to go on.

"I just thought, with everything that's happened lately, I should probably talk through some of it. To be honest, it's something I probably should have talked about a long time ago." He acknowledged, leaning on the counter and tipping his head towards the ceiling. "Ever since Warrick died really, I've needed to get some stuff out in the open."

"I think that's a great idea, Nick." She agreed softly, shooting him a warm smile and receiving one in return from the Texan.

"Well, if you can deal with your physio and therapy and everything else;" he shrugged, a chuckle bubbling out of him, "I guess I can deal with a two hour talk-a-thon with a shrink every week."

X x x

Greg rapped his knuckles on the door, peering inside.

DB was on the phone, but beckoned him in anyway, gesturing for him to take a seat.

"Yeah, no it's okay sweetheart it's just Greg." Russell nodded at the young CSI. "She says hi."

"Hi back." Greg smiled, electing to remain standing and folding his hands behind his back as he waited patiently for the conversation to end.

"Yeah, okay. Okay, I'll call you back later." He nodded. "Okay, love you too sweetheart. Bye." Hanging up, he held his hands out apologetically. "Sorry, dinner arrangements."

"It's okay." Greg smiled, proffering a results sheet. "I just came in to give you this from Henry."

"Oh, thanks." DB accepted it gratefully, casting his narrowed blue eyes over it briefly before putting it aside for the time being. "You off the clock now?"

"Yeah, there's a movie marathon on at the cinema. Me, Hodges and Archie are going." He beamed, clearly genuinely excited about it. "I've been looking forward to this all week."

"Alright, well I hope you guys have a good time." DB grinned. "Hey, before you go … you've lived in Vegas for a while."

"Yeah?"

"Where's the best place for a vegetarian meal out? It's for my anniversary, you see – I sorted the gift out but I kind of forgot about dinner."

"Well," Greg exhaled. "I know Sara likes a place on Spring Mountain Road called the Veggie House. It's a vegan Chinese place and – speaking as a devoted meat-eater – it's actually pretty nice."

"Ah, sounds perfect." Russell beamed, scribbling the name down before he forgot it. "I'll make a reservation for tomorrow. I just hope it's not already fully booked."

Greg suppressed a smirk, shaking his head.

"I don't think you need to worry about that. Unless it's started selling steak, it probably won't be full." He joked, sashaying out of the room.

"No, no probably not…" DB murmured absently in agreement, before he caught on that the younger man was making fun of his dietary habits. He looked up at the empty spot where Greg had been and shook his head in amusement. "Oh very funny ... carnivores."

X x x

"Hey, you heading out?" Morgan asked, shimmying around Hodges to her own locker.

"Yeah, I've got a man date with Greg and Archie." He hummed, buttoning up his clean shirt.

"Oh." She nodded, not entirely sure what to do with that remark. "Well, have fun!"

"We will. Thank you."

Morgan scrutinised him for a long moment with narrowed eyes, picking up on his odd mood.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." He shrugged, keeping his back to her as he pretended to rifle through his possessions for something.

"David." She pressed, moving to lean against the metal doors directly beside him so he couldn't hide from her questioning gaze any longer.

With a heavy sigh, he slammed his locked shut and joined her in leaning against it.

"Elisabetta and I broke up." He explained morosely, stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets.

"Oh." Morgan straightened up, compassion and sympathy clouding her features. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's okay." He shrugged again, scraping the toe of his shoe across the scarred stone floor. "It was my call, actually. It just didn't feel right, somehow."

"Well I'm sure that, one day, you'll find someone who is right for you." It was a clichéd assurance, but it was all she had. Morgan had never professed to be good at these kind of talks.

"Yeah, well." He pursed his lips. "I've been thinking about that a lot, with everything that's happened lately …"

"Thinking about what?" She frowned, shaking her head.

Hodges paused, chewing on his lower lip. He had been thinking about this moment so much lately; now it was here he wasn't even sure he could do it.

"Would you like to have dinner sometime?"

"Me?" She blinked. "And you?"

"It'll make my mom happy." He added with a hopeful little pout.

She laughed, a bright sound that gave him an ounce of optimism.

"I don't know, wouldn't that be a little … weird?"

"It doesn't have to be." He promised. "Look, I've lost chances before because I was too much of a coward to go for it. I don't know whether this-" he gestured between them, "-will work, but I don't want to miss out on the chance to try." When she continued to look sceptical, he softened his tone a little. "Or we don't have to do dinner yet. We could start with something smaller?"

That offer seemed to soften her frown slightly.

"Like what?"

"Like a movie marathon?" He suggested with a little smile. "Of course, Archie and Greg will be there as well."

Morgan exhaled slowly, throwing her hands out to the side.

"Alright, why not." She agreed. "I've got nothing else to do right now."

"Okay, great." He nodded eagerly, his earlier depressed thoughts seemingly a million miles away now. "I'll go tell the guys."

He was already bounding towards the door when he cast a glance back at Morgan, who hadn't moved from her spot.

"What's wrong?" He asked, noting her despondent expression.

"Nothing." She attempted to shrug it off. "I just remember the last time we were going to have a movie marathon."

Hodges frowned, trying to recall what she was talking about, when it hit him like a smack to the face.

"Oh." He pursed his lips. "Yeah, well she's okay now." He cleared his throat, ambling carefully back towards his colleague. "I mean, she's doing okay. And she's happy, right? Now that she's with Catherine?"

Morgan cocked her head to the side to study David's oddly innocent baby-face. At times like this, he seemed almost naïve, in a childlike way. Everything was so simple in his little world.

"Yeah, she is." She agreed, the ghost of a smile dancing across her lipstick red lips. "I guess finding the right person is all it takes sometimes."

X x x

At first she thought that noise was just the wind, until she heard her name float by softly on the breeze.

She turned, her hair whipping around her face as she did so, and smiled.

"Hi. What are you doing here?"

"I came to pick you up. They told me you were still here, so I came to find you." Catherine paused, glancing around them. "Should I be worried that I found you up here?"

"No." Sara promised, turning back to the view. "I was just … thinking. About that night."

"Do you remember it?" Cath asked, joining her near the edge of the roof. Sara nodded numbly, not shifting her gaze despite the tears building in her eyes.

"Yes." She breathed. "Not everything, just bits here and there. I remember coming up here and … I wanted to get away from everything. I had all these thoughts going through my head like voices, taunting me and I just … I wanted them to stop. I wanted it to be quiet."

Catherine nodded silently as she spoke, attempting to better see her face in the fading light. She didn't like being so close to the edge, but she daren't move away from Sara when she was in such a pensive state of mind.

"What about now?" She asked hoarsely, inching closer still and extending a shaky hand to rest on the woman's arm. "Can you still hear those 'voices'?"

Sara shook her head slowly, taking a deep breath.

"No. Not anymore."

Cath couldn't help the audible sigh of relief that escaped her lips and Sara turned to face her, confusion playing in her dark eyes.

"How did you know to look for me up here?" She asked again.

"Well, I tried all of the labs; and _Finn _suggested I might find you up here."

She didn't say anything further, but the tone of her voice drew an unexpected laugh from Sara.

"Are you two ever going to learn to get along?" She asked teasingly.

"Probably not." Cath's easy response only served to further Sara's amusement and she shook her head in mock distaste.

"You know, she's really not that bad once you get to know her."

This time it was Catherine who chortled softly.

"Well, you never know." She purred, resting her head on Sara's shoulder. "You and I made friends. Eventually."

Sara rolled her eyes at the mocking observation, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she continued the joke.

"Great, so I can expect you two get along in about three years?"

Cath laughed heartily, her blonde hair spilling over her shoulders as she threw her head back.

"No. I won't be working in such close contact with her." She pointed out. "For us it'll take at least six."

Their enjoyment died down and Cath exhaled slowly, watching her breath mist between them. It didn't feel overly cold, but the temperate had definitely dropped now that they were heading towards Fall.

"So," she breathed, snaking a hand around to rest on Sara's hip. "Can I expect another playlist of your musings tomorrow?"

"You got that?" Sara beamed brightly.

"Yes, I did." She hummed. "Very clever."

"Did you listen to the songs?"

"Yeah, yeah I did." Cath spun around so they were facing each other and wrapped her arms around Sara's body. It was more for her own balance than anything, but she couldn't deny that it made her heart flutter when Sara reacted to the hug. "And I think I understand."

"You do?"

"You're confused; you don't know what you want right now."

Sara stepped out of her embrace, her voice much steadier than her gently inquiring eyes as she answered the unasked question in Cat's statement.

"I know that I want you."

With a wily smile spreading across her lips, Catherine slipped her hand into Sara's and tugged her away from the perilous edge of the building without so much as casting a glance back at the setting sun.

X x x

They didn't say another word on the way home. And they remained in silence as Catherine led Sara through the house, into the bedroom; as they undressed each other; as she lowered the brunette onto the bed without ever breaking their kiss.

And even as they lay in the darkness, their breathing heavy and gasping, the only words uttered were a whispered question from Catherine.

Sara's eyes glinted at her in the dim light, so deep they were almost unearthly, but at the same time so unreadable.

"I'm sure." She promised, as Catherine's hands began to roam across her bare skin.

There were still signs of her injuries; tender spots and delicate bones lay hidden beneath damaged skin. But Catherine left no inch un-kissed.

Sara's hands were tangled in her hair as a multitude of thoughts spilled from her lips.

It felt like they had been waiting their whole lives for this moment, and they would make it last all night if only they could.


	46. Quoth the raven, 'Nevermore'

**Well, we have reached the end :) I want to say a massive thank you to everyone who read and/or reviewed this story, you're interest in my work means the world to me. **

**I hope you've enjoyed the ride :) The next story will be up soon **

**x x x x**

Finn sighed tiredly, rubbing her weary eyes. She wanted nothing more than to climb into bed and curl up with a good book until she fell into a deep, natural sleep.

But not yet. She had one more thing she needed to do first.

Exhaling deeply, she turned her attention back to the laptop and re-opened the case file.

It had been years since she had looked at it; to the point where she had almost managed to forget about it altogether.

Almost.

But lately she had been thinking about it more and more. Ever since Sara took a swan dive off the roof, to be frank.

The words still stung, jumping off the screen at her like sharp needles.

_Rape of teenager ... Abuse of trust ... He was her tennis coach _

The facts of the case were all too familiar to her, although her name did not appear anywhere in these pages.

She hadn't reported the crime against her to the police, or to anyone for that matter. She had been a frightened teenager, too scared to tell even her own parents what had happened. She had blamed herself.

That is, of course, until she had seen her rapist's name in the paper years later. He had been caught, because someone else had been brave enough to do what she hadn't.

That's why she understood Sara's desire to protect her brother by not reporting his attack. Deep down, she would have known that she was not responsible; but that would not have removed the innate feelings of guilt and shame that many vulnerable rape victims feel.

Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to the screen and, with a heavy sigh, closed the page down.

Sara's case, tragic as it was, had served to do one thing for her.

It had forced her to put some of her own demons to rest. It had taken thirty years, but she finally felt like she could put the tormenting case to bed.

X x x

Catherine rapped her knuckles on the door, poking her head inside. It felt comfortably familiar doing this, as did the grunted response to her interruption.

"Hey." She coughed softly, rocking on the balls of her feet until her presence was acknowledged.

"Oh, hey." Jim looked up tiredly from his desk. "What are you doing here?"

"I just got off the phone with Sara – she has to work late." Cat explained, ambling into the office. "She mentioned that you'd had a pretty bad shift."

"Well, yeah." The detective breathed, propping his head up on the desk. "I've had better."

She finally revealed the bottle clasped behind her back and raised her eyebrows silently in question. His response was to open his top drawer and extract two tumblers.

With a bright smile, she handed him the scotch and settled herself in the chair opposite.

It had been years since they had engaged in this comfortable after-shift routine, but they slipped back into it seamlessly. It was as if she had never gone away.

"Do you remember…" he began at last, folding one arm behind his head "when Sara and Nick, and Warrick were younger … how they used to torment each other."

"Yeah." Cath laughed. "They were like bickering siblings, always winding each other up."

"I miss that." Brass hummed. "Everything was a bet to the boys, everything was a game."

"Yeah, and Sara was always fair play."

He chuckled, taking a slow sip of the warm drink and revelling in the burning sensation in his throat.

"How are you and her…?" He asked, shifting subject slightly. He had noticed a change in Sara's mood lately and suspected that the strawberry-blonde before him was responsible. And if Cath's glowing complexion was anything to go by, she wouldn't deny it either.

"Good." A wistful smile crossed her face at the mention of her girlfriend. "We're good. Lindsey's coming back for Christmas break soon, we were thinking of taking a trip somewhere."

"That's good, that's a nice idea." He agreed, swirling his drink idly in his free hand. "You two deserve a happy ending."

"Well, Sara certainly does." Cath mused. "Did I tell you that my mother has a new best friend?"

"No?"

"Laura." She rolled her eyes. "She's enlisted her in her bridge club, they go twice a week."

"Really?" The aging man chuckled, an act which caused his chair to spin from side to side gently. "That's nice. I'm sure Laura's grateful for the company."

"Yeah, yeah she is." Cath beamed. "It's been good getting to know her, she's given me a lot of insight into what makes Sara tick."

Jim nodded, humming softly in agreement. Lord knows, he had tried to solve that puzzle himself many a time and given up. It was easier to crack military codes.

"Have you spoken to Gil recently?" He inquired after a contented silence fell over them.

"No. Have you?" She blinked, surprised by the change in subject.

"Yeah, yeah a couple of times. He called me the other day, in fact, asking about Sara's results."

"And?"

"He was happy that she was going to be okay, of course; but I think he was reluctant to call her himself."

"Things will get better." Cath assured him. "I know Sara wants to stay on good terms with him; he probably just wants to let the dust settle."

"Hmm." Brass agreed. "You know, I got a call from the prison today about Basderic."

"Oh?" She quirked an eyebrow, her tone indicating her obvious discomfort with the topic.

"He's been put in isolation – 'for his own safety'."

"Suicide watch?" She guessed unsympathetically.

"No. Apparently he's pissed off a few of his cellmates."

"Well, he does seem like a bit of an ass." Catherine conceded. "As long as he can't hurt Sara anymore, that's all that matters."

"Yeah, I wouldn't worry about that." Jim assured her firmly. "First degree murder, blackmail, stalking and intimidation, attempted murder of an officer on duty … the next time he leaves that place will be in a box."

"Good." Cath spat. "For Sara and for Edie."

"Yeah, at least Sara came out of this alive; better than Edie did. It's a shame, it didn't have to end like that for her."

"All in the past now."

"And at least one happy ending came out of all of this." Brass nodded pointedly towards her with a small smile twitching at his lips.

"Yeah." She mused, settling back in her seat and raising her glass. "To happy endings."

**~Fin~**


End file.
